City Speak: Aidan Goatley

I love Brighton. As a new resident of only a year having moved from the countryside it’s proven to be a delight. Every day I emerge from my home and smile to myself and am admittedly a little smug about living in the best city in the world. At weekends I’ve taken great pleasure in walking past the queues of traffic heading out of town and gloating that I live here permanently. Ha, I can stay at the beach past 5pm.

It took roughly a week and a half before I stopped walking down Kensington Gardens at peak times because that’s ‘where the tourists go.’

So, between discounted visits to the Pavilion and becoming slowly addicted to Infinity Foods it’s all been rather lovely for us and apart from a few ‘LEAVE IT PHIL HE’S NOT WORTH IT!’ types late at night making their way home it’s all been very peaceful.

Until the other day when I was out walking my dog Masie, a little Westie around for our morning perambulation and was reminded that sometimes we’re not in Kansas anymore.

I apologised quickly as is my overtly British way when faced with someone vaguely threatening

Now I have a daughter who is 8 and because of this pretty much everything must be pink including the dogs collar & lead. I have no issue with this as I live in Brighton, which is the city of diversity so I will happily walk my dog in pink. Although to be honest I have hidden the stripy pink jumper that the child bought, not through any fear of stereotypes you understand but that the stripes are horizontal and do nothing for Masie’s figure.

So I came around the corner with the dog and bumped into a man. He looked possibly like he had auditioned for Jeremy Kyle but had been turned down for being a ‘bit too rough.’ I apologised quickly as is my overtly British way when faced with someone vaguely threatening. He grumbled something, looked at the dog, looked at her collar and lead and then back at me.

“Gay!’ he said in a way that made it certain he wasn’t asking for a date.
Now, you know in life when you think of a suitable response but it’s usually 24 hours later? Well, this is the first time I thought of a response straight away.
“I don’t know,” I said proudly while indicating towards Masie. “I’ve never asked it before.”

While he was trying to work out what I said I backed away smugly proud of my wit. It was then that I realised that Masie had made her own social comment during our altercation and it was now on the sole of my shoe. Luckily I live close enough to change them.