Yesterday was “she who must be obeyed’s” birthday. I won’t say how old she is, but she still thinks of me as her ‘toy boy’. Well, anyway, I like to think so.
So, I dragged the poor old dear down to the pub for a birthday lunch of fish and chips and chilled Pinot Grigio. How ‘cool’ is that ?
We arrived at the local hostelry after a short walk which left us a little breathless and brought on a few minor aches and pains. Nothing terrible, just a sign that old age has caught up with us and is letting us know it.
Now, I should say that weekday lunch times in this pub are a bit like an old farts’ function, as there are always a number of creaky old gits there who, like me, have seen better days, and yesterday was no exception; for when we were about half way through our meal an old couple, and when I say ‘old’ I mean bloody ancient, entered the restaurant at what can only be called a ‘lazy snails pace’, as the old girl, who must have shrunk to about four feet nothing tall, needed one of those walker thingies with wheels, which seemed to have a mind of it’s own, and the old boy, who towered over her, was hanging on to her with one hand, whilst waving his white cane with the other.
Although the weather was quite mild, she was dressed for an Alaskan winter and he was wearing light summer attire complete with sun hat.
How this wrinkly odd couple made it to their table, let alone the pub, I don’t know. It must have taken some effort. Perhaps they had ‘escaped’ from some nearby care home. Who knows ? .. All I know is that when I watched them quietly enjoying their lunch I realized that “you are only as old as you feel”, and although they didn’t look very ‘frisky’, perhaps inside they felt twenty something and that this was …
… their first date !
bigjohn 
