Questionnable Lady Day.

I had three lady encounters today. The first was friendly and chatty, the second no more than perfunctory, the third kept her eyes averted and pretended not to see me. I think I must be losing my boyish charm. But at least I got to stroke a friendly dog.

And for those who read last night’s note about going into B&Q, I might add that I didn’t, partly because I was running late and partly because I’d lost interest in saying what I wanted to say. Pity really; it might have been amusing. But I can be like that. Matters which seem important one day can pale into insignificance the next. It’s probably why I could never have been a man of scholarly pursuits, however much I might have liked being addressed as ‘professor.’

And do you know what’s odd? I dislike being called Mr. I think it stems from the habit of my sociopathic stepfather to tell me that ‘you know you’re somebody when people call you Mr.’ Oh, right. And now I'm off to see whether my computer will allow me my YouTube fix tonight. It's often reluctant.