Monday, 25 October 2010

As I drove up Station Road I saw a colleague on his delivery...


Ginnel from Kevin Boniface on Vimeo.
As I drove up Station Road I saw a colleague on his delivery. A fat black labrador with a fluorescent green collar was attacking him. My colleague managed to protect himself with his mail pouch before kicking the dog in the head. The dog ran off and my colleague gave me the thumbs up as I passed.

At the army surplus shop, a customer was asking the proprietor whether he had “a hat like Michelle wore in ‘Allo ‘Allo”. The proprietor said he hadn’t.


I was walking up the front path of a house on Orchard Street when the door opened and a large black German Shepherd shot out of it. Fortunately, the dog was attached to its owner by a length of blue rope. The man was dragged down his steps and several feet up the path towards me before he regained his footing and restrained the dog. 
“Don’t worry” he said, “He doesn’t bite as a rule, It’s your bag. He doesn’t like postmen or people with bags”. 
The dog began barking and pulled the man another foot or so up the path. 
“When I take him down on the field I have to have a good look round to make sure there’s no one with a bag about otherwise he’ll think it’s the postman and he’ll have them”.
“Oh” I said.
“Yeah, it’s just bags... and postmen. Funny isn’t it?”

As I rounded the corner into Mill Street, a young boy of about eight or nine sped off down the hill on a BMX. Two other boys were jumping up and down excitedly. One of them pointed after the BMX boy and shouted to me “He’s shit his pants! His bum is wet!”

11.30am: A large woman in pyjamas came out of the shop holding a packet of Lambert and Butler and a copy of The Sun newspaper. She had her mobile on speaker-phone and was holding it in front of her face while she shouted into it in a southern accent: “...and then she says ‘Fuck you! It’s over! Now fuck off!' You gotta love her, haven’t you? Anyway, don’t forget your key... Love you loads and loads... Byee!”
Half an hour later I saw the woman again; she was stood smoking in the garden of no.17 with two other large women in pyjamas.

I watched an aggressive stand-off develop between two young men. It began with standard swearing but soon became quite unusual, ending thus:
“You’re a fucking moo cow!”
“You fucking moo cow!”
“Moooo cooow!”
“You’re a moo cow!”
“Mooooooooo cooooooooow!”
“You’re a moo cow!”
Eventually the first man chased the other up the road and into a house.

I knocked at the door of a house. I heard the back door open and a dog ran around the corner, squatted at my feet and started pissing. I stepped away as the dog’s owner came out saying “Don’t worry love, she’ll not bother you.”