Caught the bus into town today and then checked with Information what time it left for return journeys. If I wanted to avoid being caught in the rain I needed to catch the 37 bus home and they only run every two hours. The man behind the desk told me and then added, 'But there's also the 43 at 1.30.'
I made a mental note - okay, I actually wrote it on a piece of paper - and returned at about 1.20 to find the right stop. Slightly alarming to discover that the 43 went to Morriston Hospital, which is completely the other direction. Thankfully it turned out that it goes all around the houses. Literally.
Browsing in town before meeting someone I thought I'd look at clothes. My enthusiasm lasted all of five minutes. Everything is so drab! Spent the rest of the time avoiding people. 'No, I don't want to help a starving child/find a cure for cancer/help the homeless/find out what Jesus did for me.' I just want to wander around quietly without being guilt-tripped every three minutes.
I am well and truly afflicted with the British disease of politeness.
3 comments:
Here major charities each get a specified week to collect door-to-door or in public. This does help but it does leave the odd manic drinker or missionary. I haven't seen a Hari Krishna group for a while though. Where have they gone?
And as for clothes? It's a choice between beige acrylic or greige acrylic or watery blue ditto … bleige acrylic?
I was thinking yesterday that the Hare Krishnas were missing. Perhaps the rapture has happened and God only took them.
I've been enjoying watching the TV series "Very British Problems", or a title close to that, it is a humorous take on problems like being overly polite.
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