Having popped out on Friday to provide some IT sport I carried on with a few beers. The combination of a few beers and no dinner brought me to a bad place. I had consumed sufficient beer to consider that a Chinese take away was a good idea and dutifully collected one. The problem was that I had not consumed enough beer to overcome the poor quality. I think I shall pen a note for my wallet that reminds me I don’t like fast food. It was lovely to pop down to the Ship on Friday and see the old girl thriving. Obviously I miss being there but seeing it do well is the next best thing and hey it’s only a matter of time until I have my next one.
I awoke on Saturday morning to the high pitched shrieks of children on the beach. A check of my watch revealed that it was 6am, surely not? My watch must be wrong, no the phone confirmed the same thing. I looked out of the window to discover the shrieks were emanating from a pair of middle aged women. The tide was out and one was splashing around in the sea whilst the other kept dispatching the dog to ‘rescue’ her. My first thought was to shout back but they were too far, they had the advantage that the sea carries sound well. After 30 minutes I had my shorts on and was preparing to go down to the sea, wait for her to shriek “I’m drowning” again and then place a foot on her head and reply “Indeed you are”. Thankfully they tired of the ocean and disappeared, I can only presume that they found a window to lick somewhere.
In other news I was quite taken aback by an idle comment from a friend this weekend. This was one of those ‘uncle gav’ chats and I was sagely advising that it was all about different stages in life and I was sure that it would all come right for this young couple. The innocent comment from the young lady was ‘oh I wish I could just be happy single like you’. Firstly I need Jo to note this when she reads this post, see sis I told you I am just the non threatening type! And secondly I shall add it to the list of things that people wrongly assume. This list was started by the cowgirl’s absolute belief that I am a ‘blondes’ guy, despite absolutely no evidence. I think somewhere along the line I went out of synch with adults, hence the random assumptions, but kept in line with children. Or perhaps the gurgling smiles that I endear from babies are simply their way of saying “lets see if I can make the mardy old git smile”. Am I simply a challenge to babies?
Recent experience of a mate tells me that the middle aged dating game is way more complicated than it appears at first sight. It’s not all text messages and phone calls anymore, apparently you have to change computer passwords to match the name of your intended future partner. Although I didn’t think his name was “yourbunnyisboiling” perhaps it’s an anagram.
Gav Young 