"I was there ... and this bird said 'you're fit' ... and I said 'sorry, I ain't got time."
This recitation by one young man to another, both dressed in those preposterous yellow jackets worn by rail side and other manual workers, was overheard this morning.
Only last night Bolshie Book Worm and I had an exchange on the very subject of very young men referring to girls their age as 'birds' and whether we should laugh or cry (we decided on balance we'd rather be amused).
What gave rise to it was news that The Big Banana has been dumped after two years by his tiny little girlfriend, but things are looking up as he has a date (with 'a new bird') tonight (Thursday) ... in celebration of which event he was off to' Get Drunk'. He's sixteen years old, his father works in a civilian capacity for the police, and neither of us said anything about the advisability or legality of the proposed course of action.
Guilty by default.
It is all of a piece with the Maltese Terrier who fresh from her shagging back home is getting it from her friend, an 'enormous' fireman who is in an unhappy marriage. 'Her' man spends the night with her occasionally. This is under the roof she shares with her two teenage children, one of whom intends to become a police officer herself. This is the same woman who takes her kids out drinking knowing full well the law and who in her day job haranguing the staff she supervises about the law on selling alcohol to the underage or knowingly to those intending to supply.
This is a woman who has anecdotes to share about sharing a spliff with her brother and a teenage cousin of theirs, and being panic stricken when said cousin's police officer girlfriend turns up - said police officer being concerned only that she doesn't inhale enough to fail a random drugs test to which she might be subjected. Again, all under the same roof as her teenage children.
Wonder how they're likely to turn out?
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