Spring is sprung. The grass is ris.
I wonder where Prince Charming is! 🙂
Adapted, of course, from a famous, intellectual poem about birdies. Yes, that is the full extent of my knowledge on the subject. And I prefer my version.
Anyway, moving swiftly along – there’s a bunch of workmen building houses across from me and it’s a nightmare; the whole cul-de-sac is clogged up with lorries, vans, diggers, concrete mixers and burly builders.
Today I was driving my neighbour home from the dentist and this fuck-off great big lorry was blocking the estate. I pulled up, trying to decide what to do: drive on the pavement? Nope! Not enough room! Reverse and come in the other way? Nope! There is no other way!
Yell Politely ask the driver to move? Hmm…possibly…
And then I had that feeling. The same feeling you get when somebody’s watching you… A builder guy was enjoying his ciggie break in a van parked on the pavement next to me. He grinned. I grinned. He got out of his van. I got out of my car.
‘Hi! I don’t suppose you know how long that lorry driver’s gonna be, do you?’
‘Oh, that’s Brian. He’s only just got here and he’s waiting for the truck in front of him to unload. And now he’s chatting and he’s worse than a woman when he gets going. I reckon you’re stuck here for the next couple of hours…’
‘Well, at least you get to chat to me while you’re waiting!’
‘Oh, well that’s okay then. It’s not as if I’ve got anything more urgent to do!’
‘I Know! Why don’t you drive up on the pavement!’
‘Already thought of that! Too narrow! I’d never get my arse through there, let alone the car!’
‘I could give it a go if you like!’
‘What? Shifting my arse or the car?’
‘How about going in the back way?’
‘Excuse me! I’ve only just met you! Talk about forward!‘
‘Ha ha! I meant another way onto the estate!’
‘Ahh, I already though of that one as well! There isn’t a back way in!’
‘Hmm… so there’s only one thing to do – yell at the driver to move.’
This was seriously freaky; this guy was reading my mind! And boy! was he cute – not in a conventionally rugged and handsome way, but because he was so at ease in his own body, smiley and flirty, open and cheeky, with mischief twinkling in his eyes. Jeeze! He was the male version of me!
‘There is another option,’ he said with a grin, pointing to the bit of pavement in front of his van. ‘You could always squeeze in, in front of me.’
Oh, be still, my twitching knickers!
‘Ooooh! That’s the best offer I’ve had in a while!’ I squealed in my best Barbara Windsor accent, ‘But I’ve got my disabled friend in the car and she can’t walk that far.’
‘Story of my life! I’ll go and ask him to move for you.’
‘Oh, that’s so sweet *simper simper* but I don’t wanna interrupt your ciggie break.’
‘No problem!’ he said, flashing me a wink and leaning on his horn (not that one!).
The lorry driver came rushing out, looking all red-faced and confused.
‘Here, mate,’ said my Knight in Dusty Denim, ‘There’s a gorgeous young lady here who needs to get through!’
(I really must stop squealing; I sound like a pig …) ‘Oh,’ I said, innocently, ‘is there someone else waiting as well, then?’
Oh, that wink! Either Builder Guy was flirting or he’s got one serious eye twitch… 😉