Declining the Smile.

I was just reading an old blog post of mine about a man who smiled at me on a train. It reminded me that a young bloke rode past me on a bike in Ashbourne last week – and smiled at me.

Needless to say, I scowled back, but it raises the question: Why did he smile at me? Why?

Let’s get this straight:

Men smile at women, women smile at men. Women also smile at women, but men don’t smile at men. Got it? It’s a primeval thing to do with clubs and pointed sticks. It isn’t natural. It isn’t, not even if your name is Jesus, Gautama Siddharta, or Donny freggin’ Osmond.

I mean, what would have happened if I’d smiled back? He might have asked me to ride pillion, and then I would have had to tell him where to stick his bicycle pump, and that might have made his eyes water.

See? Why can’t we just keep things simple?

Fortunately, the White & McKay scotch was on special offer the same day. It’s going down nicely.