They See Me Coming (They Really Do)
I'm having a mad-panic tidy up as D is coming round in a minute, and I thought "must nip out and get the Guardian, it being Monday and me job hunting and all." So - despite all my exercise last week - I went in the car, as I was in a hurry, and on my way back, there's an old man with a dog in our path. The dog's off the lead, and looking for somewhere to do his business. I try not to run him over, and when I get out of the car, the old man says to me "I was born on 22 July 1920. I'll say no more."
How did he know where I live? Is there a message board for local nutters in need of conversation? SashaFilter? Obviously, I had to wish him happy birthday, and next thing I know, we're in conversation. Bugger. Must get my big-city-don't-even-think-about-it vibe back.
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