Tuesday 15 September 2009

when you posess both compassion and efficiency, luck is rather immaterial

A magnanimous farewell

I cant help smirking. A rich ubane see you round smirk, so it looks like its ciao. My smirk threatens to eat my face and make a start on my neck for afters.

As the train pulled in I staggered back to our seats laden down with refreshments - though you dont really feel refreshed after stuffing yourself stupid with cheddar ploughmans sarnies and double G&Ts do you? Yous just feel more knackered. Why is this? - I find HER sticking her tongue out at a little boy on the platform with his leg in plaster. He hobbled away, backwards, still looking at her, amazed. Then he walked into a trolley, keeled over and began to cry. His mother ran up to him, hauled him to his feet and slapped him.
She sniggered
I started to say something, then remembered that she'd grown up in a different culture to me. Casual racism, wrestling to the death and branding blood relations with red-hot pokers was all in a days work when she was a girl. So I didnt say anything. Instead I sat opposite her and smiled as I handed her her tea.
'Here you go - three sugars! Live dangerously, eh?'
She then proceeded to call me 'The boybride of some muslim homo.'
What a fantastic grasp of the language. Such a razor sharp lizardlike tongue.... I guess thats where I get it from.

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