” You alright mate!!” the chap passing by asked but left even without hearing, me mumble a groaning ..”yeeeeah !!! “
I often wonder why people ask if you are alright and all. I mean, what is the big deal? why the whole fuss if they are not willing to listen to the long answer that I have? And just because they asked, does it mean I have to blabber away?
I mean, do I tell them that I am alright when I really am not or do I tell them that I am really not alright, that I hardly get any sleep as I have to wake up atleast four times at night to take a leak ( doc says its’ me prostate), that even my rooftop ocassionally leaks, that my garden needs a mow and so does my mane but the maximum that guy would be willing to hear is a, “yeah mate, and you?” and maybe a few lines about the way England beat Ukraine in footie and all.
I mean, you know, don’t get me wrong, but I really feel am cheating the person who asks me if am alright by saying yes when am not and all.
I want to tell them that Linda Bennett, my next door neighbour she worries me. She really really does. She is like in her seventies, you know. She was very very active, I tell ya. She often invited me to taste her home made pancakes. She and her black and white cat, Lydia. Linda and Lydia made quite a pair, you know.
However, these days the milk bottles and the newspapers keep piling up for days together in front of her house. I like, even saw her once in the local shop with her robe and rollers on.
Her son Dave is in a high tech fancy job in central London. Central London, I tell ya, is really the happening place to be and all. All fancy people in their fancy suits and fancier gadgets. They are like so high tech that they can get in touch with someone from the farthest corner of the world in like a flash of a second but you ask them about their neighbours, nada, zilch, they wouldn’t know who that is.
So like Dave works in Central London. I wonder if I should give him a ring but I know what he will say. Don’t get me wrong he is a really nice guy. He really really is. He even visited her once last year, I mean that is so nice of him, to visit his mum and all. I, never really visited my mom when she was alive and now since she is dead and all, so no point in visiting her, really.
I think, I will give the social services a ring. They would sort out Linda sooner I think.
So,that worries me, so am not alright. So, now you know like, why I cannot say to the guy that I am alright.
The other woman who really worries me is Olivia Tucker, she lives in a nice little cottage right across from my house. She is a lovely little, active lady in her eighties. Yeah, you heard that right, she is in her eighties with no next of kin. Her garden looks much better than mine though. She recently planted neatly coordinated yellow and white daffodils in her lawn. She reminds me of Wordsworth, she does. Yet, she worries me that little one.
You would be surprised to know that she manages all this even while she continues to do her basic activities with the help of a 3 wheel walker, you know. She has real bad arthritis, her hands are all twisted in opposite directions and all. Her doctor told her that swimming will keep her fit and I love the cookies she makes. So, I volunteered to drive her to the swimming pool although she still has her driving licence.
She was so delighted at my offer. So, I drive along with her. Yeah, she doesn’ t let me drive. She does the driving and I like sit along and watch her swim and bring her back. That’s all alright you know but I would really not want to be the one with a car behind hers’ while she is driving. Because, you know, sometimes when cars come from opposite side, instead of firming the break and holding the steering she like, does quite the opposite.
She jams the damn clutch, speeds the accelarator and steers the car. We have been really really lucky a few times, I tell ya. She worries me, that little one, she really really does.
I think, I will have to tell her doctor about this or the DVLA, you know she has no family and all, right, thats why….
So, like that is why I am not alright.
The Sidebottoms next door worry me, they really really do. I think, they should change their name from Sidebottom to Bigbottom, they should. They are a young couple in their late thirties with half a dozen kids. Mrs Sidebottom is pregnant again and her oldest Bianca Sidebottom the fifteen year old, she is pregnant too. So like, mom and daughter both go to the same maternity unit.
Bianca sweet little girl she is, but she worries me she does, quite a tart she can be you know. She will claim benefits for raising the kid up. She doesn’t know who the father is she says. Can’t be bothered to figure it out and all is what she says. Poor little girl, I don’t really blame her for not actively trying to find out who the baby’s father is. It would be such a tough job, I tell ya. But she is a really good girl. She really really is.
The Sidebottoms don’t work. Oh no, they don’t believe in all that. Mr Sidebottom has been claiming disabilty allowance for being bedridden with a bad back for years on end now. Everything is paid for by the state, of course the money comes from the tax payers money like mine.
But they are really nice people. They really really are. Did I tell you like the whole family went on a cycling trip down to Cornwall last summer and they plan to do it again this year? Yeah, I know I told you Mr Sidebottom has a bad back. He doesn’t really have a bad back you know but he continues to claim benefits. Liar of a bugger I tell ya..
But they are really really nice family. The couple and their half a dozen and all. Their oldest Brian was recently arrested for shop lifting. He is only thirteen, you know. Poor lad, he was only trying to shoplift something for his mother for her birthday as a gift and those nasty people arrested him. I really really felt sorry for Brian. But now things are like alright. He has learnt to shoplift without getting caught and all.
They are a nice happy family of big bottoms eating takeouts and living happily…but they worry me they do. So, I am not alright.
So, I take the easy way out by uttering the yeah, ofcourse, I am alright. Saves so much describing, I tell ya.
In contrast, there is the mongrel that I see every morning when I buy the lucky strikes and the bottle of cider. It would be all curled up but the minute we spot each other, it would awaken from its reverie…lift itself up, stretch…give a good shake to its body and run towards me, just by smelling it would quietly ask if I was alright.
Like, it sometimes wags its tail and just gives me this look as if to say that I will be alright. It really kills me, that look, it really really does.
PS I would appreciate if this post was not used to do moral bashing. Each nation has many social issues and I simply borrowed J D Salinger’s Holden Caulfield to describe some of these characters and a few of the issues that engulf modern Britian. This certainly is not the whole picture.
