Thursday, 31 May 2012


As I walked into town in the rain I saw, outside a pub, a group of lads smoking and drinking. These boys had chosen bad-ass as their style: loud expletives in mock Essex, tattoos, cigarettes, and backwards baseball caps.

As I walked back I saw one of them struggling to close an incongruous, effeminate little brolly. With a cheeky smile he handed it to the tiny, pearl-haired, eighty-something lady, whose umbrella it was, and whom he was helping close it. You gotta lovely face, he said.

How marvellous when life reminds just how unhelpful prejudices are.


  1. Sometimes the thugs are just thugs - but sometimes they are just angels with dirty faces.