Of course, had I been 'middle class' and a 'Daily Mail' reader, I suspect I would have headed that as 'The Things One Does.' However I didn't but I did manage to have a bite at the middle class 'Daily Mail' reader so it's not all bad! On Monday, in between grabbing the wheel at the big roundabout,("What lorry where?") my instructor asked if I was feeling fit. Naturally I went through a long list of aches and pains, and covered the many sufferings this never ending 'bug' wishes to give me. He cared not a jot! So this morning I found myself, in zero degrees I should add, wandering the streets sticking his leaflets through folks doors. He had come upon a sad problem, too many of his pupils have passed the test and now he has run out of work. I had suggested his kids, and his latest woman, should be out there doing this, but as I have mentioned before, he cared not a jot! However it was fun, and almost like working again!
Of course I came across the old problems postmen face daily. Dogs barking, gates which are shut, take ages to open, are covered in grime and rainwater, and get you a volley of abuse if you leave the thing open! Who needs a gate anyway? It is only a psychological barrier against the world and IT DOESN'T WORK! Many Englishmen are fearful of immigrants, especially black ones, coming here and taking the jobs they don't have and running of with the wife they now detest. Oh the problems of being such a person, and you defend your kith and kin with a dirty, rain covered gate! Well done! Women complaining that putting a leaflet through the letterbox, which 'clangs' loudly, wakes their child as if this is your fault, is another interesting problem. I have an answer to this but apparently this is illegal now. Pity. Letterboxes with a stiff 'brush' behind it in a vain attempt to keep out draughts also keeps out leaflets and mail. yet these folk complain their mail is bent! Some daft folk also have a metal plate, which 'clangs,' behind this brush. Are they all mad I ask? Paving slabs which rise up to me you and holes which hide until you find them are not helpful. And what can be said for the cat? Running to you as you come up the litter strewn path, this was not the best of areas to leaflet, little puss rubs herself into you, meows kindly, and as you walk away without opening the door and letting her in gives you a look that would make Margaret Thatcher tremble! Naturally I saw few postmen at work!
It almost make me feel like I was working again! My fingers went from frostbite to almost thawed in less than an hour, my knees ached, the sun went in and dark brooding clouds came over, threatening rain, and I felt like going back to bed. Yes indeed, it was just like being at work once again! I still have two thirds of his leaflets here! How many did he give me? I shall do more tomorrow, if it does not rain, and then I hope he will give me a free hour, or two!
