Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Promise not to tell

Living as we do in an area of outstanding natural beauty we often get walkers pass through our domain. They fall into several categories, ignorant oafs, friendlies and oddballs. Examples being those that walk past me as I go about my daily routine without even acknowledging my existence, even though we are both in what is technically my garden, those that do this usually get told in no uncertain terms my expectation of good manners.  Friendlies are the ones who pass the time of day, chat, swap stories and move on. The oddballs can be found among these pages, the orthodox Jews who were lost (all 30 of them) the geologists looking for the mother stone and the unemployed man on a walking holiday who stupidly chose our part of the world for some peace and quiet camping on the night we had the mother of all parties to send out son off to war. Today we met a friendly oddball. He wandered through looking bewildered, then after negotiating the knee deep mud of the lane waved a GPS around and consulted a map. Intrigued I set off to help.
Me. Are you lost.
OBF (Oddball friendly) Not exactly but I am sure you can help.
Me. Well I know where I am, show me on the map where you think you are.
OBF. Well if I carry on in this direction I will end up in village X.
Me. No. Village X is there (me pointing in the opposite direction.
OBF (looks accusingly at map) No how did I manage that then?
Me (pointing to map) You carried on along this track and missed that turn.
OBF (looking sheepish) ooops, schoolboy error
Me. Never mind, easily solved, back the way you came, black gate, that leads to the world.
OBF. (walking back towards the world) Thanks
Me. You on a walking holiday then?
OBF. Not exactly (looking really really sheepish) I write for a living
Me. Oh yeah, what?
OBF (growing a woolen coat and bleating) I write guides for walkers
Me (trying not to laugh) Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha
OBF (grazing, trying to salvage credibility) I'm (name deleted to spare embarrasment) and write for several walking magazines like...... (gives names) (stops and looks at me sheep to man) You wont tell anyone about this will you (pitiful bleat)
Me. Mate, you have no idea.

1 comment:

margeaux said...