» Columnist Idol!
L7 has been searching for a new local voice – and it’s provided a fascinating opportunity to find out what’s on your minds. Over the last two months we have been printing some of the submissions. Our final contender…
Ruby Grimshaw, 70, Brighton
On my way back the other evening from a meeting of the Southern Landlords’ Association, I was killing time at the bus stop by gazing into the windows of the Cowley Club in London Road. There are always useful self-help notices there, such as “How to find your Empty Property for a Successful Squat” or “What to Say to the Police when You are Arrested.” A youngish man standing at the bus stop saw my interest and came over. Soon we were chatting away, but when he suddenly smiled and asked me if I had time for a drink I almost spluttered.
It is a very long time indeed since I have pulled – so long that in those days it was called “being asked out on a date.” True, I had borrowed my daughter’s denim jacket, which I felt went well with my jeans, but even if the man was not wearing glasses, it did not mean his eyesight was good.
“You didn’t really go?” My friend next day at my creative writing class was scandalised. (I drop that in because it shows that I go to sensible courses like a normal OAP.) “Of course I did,” I replied scornfully. I expected to live on this dinner party story for weeks to come. Well, maybe not dinner parties, more coffee mornings and Help The Aged meetings.
We had a glass of wine at a nearby pub and I greedily absorbed his compliments like those delicious first gulps of tea in the morning. I deduced that I must be a good twenty years older than him and, after two hours of enjoyable chat, I said I must go.
Outside I saw my bus, but to my horror my companion said he would see me home. Thinking fast I dropped my freebie SLA pen, and as he scrabbled on the pavement for it I quickly flashed my bus pass at the driver and was sitting smugly in my seat clutching my ticket when he sat beside me.
I saw him once more but sadly I decided that I did not have the stamina for all that bedroom stuff any longer and I could not bear the pain of a face lift. Botox injections were not an option because I have read all about the animal experiments.
My friends were disappointed not to be getting a blow-by-blow account. Still, there’s another SLA meeting soon and I have not decided what to wear to it. My daughter won’t let me wear her jacket any more.
