My inner old lady…

Tonight I was stood in the chippy, minding my own business (for once), when I could feel to the left of me, someone staring at me.

Actually, staring was an understatement.

So I turned and looked and there with absolutely zero fucks and even less shame, was a chap old enough to be my Grandad, eyeing me up.

Was I dolled up like I was yesterday, in a frock as my Dad would comment & a bit of lippy.. no, I was looking like I’d just crawled out of bed a la scrubber styleeee.

“Want to come and have a butty with me?” Grandad quipped, “I’ll tell the wife to set another at the table love!”

Either I look like I need fattening up (which my hips, if they could speak would say, absolutely not fatty) or I’d just been hit on.  I laughed, the chippy guys laughed and I graciously flicked my hair, shone my brightest smile and said “I’d love to, but two’s company and we know three’s a crowd” before skipping out and leaving the little old chap with a smile on his face, out of the chippy.

As I drove home, it got me thinking, at what age do you think fuck it, I’m gonna do as I please, eye people up and be as surprised as the next person as to what drivel spills from my mouth…?

Because I think I’m there already. About 40 years too early in this instance.

A few months ago I was enjoying dinner with my two bestest friends. Friends who’ve known me since I was 11 and who’ve been there through thick and thin for me and who, on this occasion, shuck their heads dismayed.

Cut a long story short, we’d headed for dinner, I complimented the waiter on his lovely curls, he went red and thought I was flirting,  at which point, I exclaimed that although I loved his hair, it wasn’t a come on and I most certainly didn’t want to shag him… Q my mates shaking their heads, but not altogether surprised with my verbal diarrhoea… After 27 years of friendship, they know anything could slip out.

I genuinely think I’m an elderly person stuck in a younger person’s body. I won’t be that loud old lady in the nursing home, christ i’m not yet 40 and the poor guy I ended up dancing around the Sainsbury’s aisle with in Leeds at lunchtime yesterday, as I tried to grab a sarnie and he desperately attempted to re- stock his shelves, whilst I heckled the poor bugger, would probably tell you himself that I’m already there.

A long time ago, having dinner with my dear old Grandad, he told me that no shadow was ever dark enough to dim my flame.

Well Grandad, that flame is shining brightly, a bit too brightly for some, but still it’s shining and I’m laughing as my inner old lady escapes me!

*I’ve learnt my lesson: no more complimenting waiters young enough to be my son!


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