For the third day in succession, Sammy wandered across the yard to the bench where I sat, in solitary splendour, and plonked himself down next to me.
"Good morning", he said.
"You bastard", I replied, deadpan.
"You can be a bit antisocial, can't you?" Perceptive bugger, Sammy... "Actually, you can be very antisocial, most of the time!"
I had to make some effort to defend myself against this awful slur. "This is the only half hour in the day I have which is mine. No work, no writing, no studying, no business. Just me, the sky and my coffee and notebook. And you ruin it!"
This morning, Sammy entered the yard and moved in my direction. Half way across the tarmac he paused before veering away. Solitude reigns!
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This is so funny. I behave similarly at times where I live. The other day I had my haircut and the hairdresser was so glad to realise that we lived on the same estate, being new there she asked me all about the goings on and the other people. I did have to say to her that although we were being friendly and she was getting the low down from me on everything, if she were to say 'hello' and 'how's it going' as we pass by on the streets, chances are I would probably not even recognise her again! This is the way I behave on the mean streets around where I live and its called surviving. It occurred to me as we approach Halloween that the large numbers and groups of kids around the place might seem threatening, but in reality they are probably more frightened of me. lol!
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