When the sun comes out, so do the crazies (and I guess I’m one of them)

Sunshine and summer finally arrived like a miracle we’d prayed for never expecting to receive.

In the middle of last week, when temperatures soared, I went to work at a cafe round the corner from where I live so that I could at least look out of the window at the good weather.

I stopped typing to look up and think and staring me in the face was a pearly king, slightly toothless, and smiling, like he’d been staring at me waiting for me to look. I smiled back and he walked on. Shortly afterwards an old lady with a purple rinse passed by. It’s been years since I’ve seen a purple rinse. Then a guy with a giant pink and white swirled lollipop, about a metre in diameter walked by.

‘There’s some interesting things to see today,’ I thought to myself.

That afternoon on my way to a meeting I passed a guy demonstrating Kung fu at the end of my street, and then got chatting to a complete stranger, an old lady about her ailments and how she got them. The sunshine clearly brings out the friendly northerner in me. Thirty seconds later I was passing the time of day with the Frenchman who works up the road, and then carried on through Clapham Common, where bar tenders were out practising their cocktail throws.

My skirt was caught up in my bag an as I walked had worked its way up my legs, so I stopped to pull it back down to a decent level.
‘You pulling your knickers out of your bum?’ shouted a happily inebriated homeless guy.
‘No!’ I shouted back slightly indignantly, ‘I’m pulling my skirt down.’
‘Do you know what? You’re gorgeous. Really hot. Even when you’re pulling your knickers out of your bum.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘But I really wasn’t pulling my knickers out.’
‘Shake my hand,’ he said. So I took his hand and shook it and he pulled me in and planted a kiss very firmly on my cheek.
‘Do you want to go for a drink?’
I laughed and declined politely and he told me again how lovely he felt I looked in no uncertain terms.

‘That’s good luck, that is,’ said one of my friends.
‘I thought that was shaking the hand of a chimney sweep?’
‘Same thing…’


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