I saw a young couple in the town centre early this morning. He seemed quite camp and was walking with his arms folded and his jeans turned up above the ankle. She was very tall, very blonde and was wearing extremely short hot pants with cork wedge sandals. As I passed them, I overheard the man say "I've got to take Sammy's rabbit to get its claws clipped". They headed off towards the market place where the stalls were being set up and, a half minute or so later, a chorus of lewd shouts come up from that direction.
I shouted to the woman in the pink turtle neck and grey gilet who was valeting her Peugeot 107 but she couldn't hear me above Michael Jackson's Bad on the car stereo. When I eventually attracted her attention she looked flustered and embarrassed; she apologised and said she'd been in a world of her own.
The man in the bobble hat and the plastic rimmed glasses was staring at me as I emptied the pillar box. I glanced up and let on. He was picking his nose vigorously. He didn't acknowledge me but continued staring and picking. After a few seconds, I could still feel him staring so I looked up again. This time the man glanced down quickly and started to examine the bogey he was rolling between his thumb and forefinger. I slammed the box door shut and dragged the sack across the pavement. As I loaded it into the van, I noticed the man was still staring at me but had now started picking at the other nostril. He was prodding around up there, tipping his head on one side to get a good purchase and the only time he took his eyes off me was to inspect the end of his finger. I got into my van just as the man's bus arrived: Stotts ...taking people to places.
The garden wall at no.27 is now a pile of rubble after a bus crashed into it the other day. The bus company have erected a "Temporary Bus Stop" right next to it.
The spare wheel cover of the Suzuki Grand Vitara on the driveway at no.47 is decorated with a psychedelic picture of a native American Indian standing next to a rainbow while a large 'starburst' sun rises behind his head like a halo. The car's owner was in his garden wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off denim shorts to strim around the two small white painted boulders on his lawn.
On my way home, I passed a man in his fifties. He was wearing a long heavy overcoat, a woollen scarf and black leather shoes. The next person I passed was a young man in his twenties; he was wearing a T-shirt, knee length cotton shorts, no socks and flip flops.