Drive By Friends

Some years ago my drive to work in the mornings used to take me along a piece of singletrack road. It was by far and away the best part of my journey, as I was heading Eastward and consequently quite often got to see some beautiful sunrises across open countryside. Although the road was probably a good couple of miles long, it was invisble to satnavs and not particularly well used at all, so on most mornings I had the place to myself save for the occasional cow and an elderly Sikh gentleman.

I used to see him pretty much every morning miles from anywhere, ambling along in his duffelcoat, trainers & wooly hat (winter gear) or T-shirt, trainers & wooly hat (summer gear). Over the years he and I eventually got to a stage where we would cheerfully wave to each other, although I never actually stopped and said hello (I am not one of your arrive-at-the-office-15-minutes-early kinda guys and hence never really had the time to stop).

Eventually my route to work changed and I just didn't see him in the mornings anymore, but I often wonder if he's still ambling about the Leicestershire countryside and wondering what happened to the idiot in the Volvo that used to wave at him for no reason.

After our house move, my new route to work takes me past a house that quite often has a very portly lady standing on the doorstep smoking a fag and looking cross in her dressing gown. Sometimes I see her on the way home too, although usually the dressing gown has been swapped for a tracksuit (she still looks cross though). I've not waved at her so far as she looks more of a punching than a waving kind of lady.

NDC