I randomly fall over after I've been to the pub. I've no idea why.
Shameful after timing
Random encounters with strangers happen quite often when you go out running early in the morning along Brighton seafront.
My favourite one ever happened as I was running at the top of Brighton seafront, fairly close to the Pier, in full hi viz running top and shorts, clutching water and sweating profusely at about 7am.
There was this bloke in the distance. He was quite scary. For a kick off he was large. Not fat but tall and ripped. Any intimidating effect that might have had, however, was cancelled out by the fact he couldn’t walk straight. As I got closer I saw his hair had been shaved in to a neat pattern and he had a fairly impressive goatee beard. And he was staggering straight towards me.
Now I was fairly sure I could outrun him, which was good as I certainly would have come off second best in any other physical encounter. However, he somehow looked more desperate than threatening. I was intrigued.
“Excuse me” he lisped. It was a voice entirely without correlation to his massive size. It was camper than Julian Clary and higher than him. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a light have you?” he continued, waving a roll up in the air.
Now I take a few things with me when I run. My keys. A tenner in case I have to stop for injury. My phone. And, on longer runs, some energy gels and a bottle of water. But I have to confess that I do not carry twenty B&H, nor the means to light them up.
Not ten yards from him were several other wasted clubbers, each of whom was assiduously smoking. Yet he picked the one person on the entire ****ing seafront who was guaranteed NOT to have a light.
“I’m sorry, I don’t” I just about managed to blurt out and, despite his size and condition, I gave a little laugh of disbelief. “Oh shit” he replied and staggered off, puncturing the air with his unlit rollup.
Maybe he thought you were puffingRandom encounters with strangers happen quite often when you go out running early in the morning along Brighton seafront.
My favourite one ever happened as I was running at the top of Brighton seafront, fairly close to the Pier, in full hi viz running top and shorts, clutching water and sweating profusely at about 7am.
There was this bloke in the distance. He was quite scary. For a kick off he was large. Not fat but tall and ripped. Any intimidating effect that might have had, however, was cancelled out by the fact he couldn’t walk straight. As I got closer I saw his hair had been shaved in to a neat pattern and he had a fairly impressive goatee beard. And he was staggering straight towards me.
Now I was fairly sure I could outrun him, which was good as I certainly would have come off second best in any other physical encounter. However, he somehow looked more desperate than threatening. I was intrigued.
“Excuse me” he lisped. It was a voice entirely without correlation to his massive size. It was camper than Julian Clary and higher than him. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a light have you?” he continued, waving a roll up in the air.
Now I take a few things with me when I run. My keys. A tenner in case I have to stop for injury. My phone. And, on longer runs, some energy gels and a bottle of water. But I have to confess that I do not carry twenty B&H, nor the means to light them up.
Not ten yards from him were several other wasted clubbers, each of whom was assiduously smoking. Yet he picked the one person on the entire ****ing seafront who was guaranteed NOT to have a light.
“I’m sorry, I don’t” I just about managed to blurt out and, despite his size and condition, I gave a little laugh of disbelief. “Oh shit” he replied and staggered off, puncturing the air with his unlit rollup.
Yep that’s happened to me before.Life can be strange at times, last Saturday picking my wife up from sainsburys Lions Farm in Worthing when I had the following encounter. It was about 12:45 as I drove through the car park when I stopped to let a large transit type van pull out. Van then stops next to my car and the driver rolled his window down to talk to me, I thought maybe he's going to say thankyou for letting him out. This is how the conversation went,
Van driver in an almost comedy Irish accent "Top of the morning to you sir, would you be after boying a brand new diesel generator"
Me "Err, no not right at this moment"
Van driver "ok sir oill be saying goodbye to you then"
I'm sure it was all above board and legal.
but seriously WTF.
Once saw a mate out jogging with a lit B&H between his lips. Always makes me smile when I remember it.
I've seen people smoking pLaying football, and particularly keen smokers paying cricket, notably fielding, but never out jogging, that's really pleasantly amusing for some daft reason.
Far more so than the irony of pie munchers dressing up in Lycra and cycling to farm shops/cafes