Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Being Human

Last night I popped across to see my dad play guitar in a local pub, I didn't stay long really, just a solitary pint as I'm cutting back on the beer and then I walked home. Usually I like to walk through the market place, the square has a certain sheen to it as the old lamp lights flicker in the night. Walking through the usually empty market place often makes my mind drift to Victorian-esque moments, of vampires lurking in the shadows. As I pace through my imagination can run riot briefly.

Anyway last night as I neared Bridge Street several undesirables emerged from nowhere, quite close to me, evidently taking some interest. There about four of them, most likely with nothing better to do than lurk around and cause bother. As I was listening to music I couldn't hear their words, I quickly paced by them but could sense I was getting verbal abuse, though I didn't turn the music off to hear it, why bother?

I can take personal abuse, at my age its not something that bothers me greatly now, but I do wonder why people have to be insulting and aggressive. I felt doubtful of being attacked as it was fairly town centre and there's cctv around a usually a few people, if they had however I could have done nothing but took a beating, I was more matter of fact about the situation than nervous. Removing my earplugs and responding could have invited trouble, the sensible course of action was to stride on, nonchalant to what they were doing and paying no heed at all.

Today I had to admit on pondering things, my faith in human behaviour wasn't at full strength initially. This afternoon I went for a haircut and as I sat waiting an elderly Australian gentleman in a wheelchair was beside me having his cut, he was in his wheelchair as he obviously couldn't ascend the stairs to the main salon area. As I sat and read a magazine he chatted to the stylist about how he was over here in the UK for a few months with his wife (also having her hair cut). Soon my hair was cut and the stylist paid, I descended the stairs and there sat the old guy, I paused momentarily, then turned and smiled before saying 'Cheerio'. He responded warmly, slightly taken aback. I'm sure for a moment he felt good, I know I did, so why do some people get off on being unfriendly?

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