20 Years On

I served a girl yesterday and she had the punk look down to a tee. If it wasn’t for the lip piercing’s she could have stepped out of the eighties. It was an interesting thought - not that I was ever a punk - but 20 years on, here was I looking fairly normal, serving someone recreating a look that was around when I was their age.

All this may make me sound old, but although I may joke about being old I am in fact rather bemused by my age.
Next week I will be 35. It’s kind of crept up on me.
I certainly don’t feel 35 and I’m not sure that I act 35.
Don’t get me wrong I have no problem with being this age; in fact I’m rather enjoying it. It’s just that I’m not sure I believe it!!!

I may look back fondly at being a teenage Goth, proudly wearing a backcombed Robert Smith birds nest on my head but I certainly wouldn’t want to do it again. It was high maintenance. It took a whole week of abuse with hairspray, crimpers and a comb to get my hair into a spiky tangled mess for the weekend. None of us used to get to the pub that much before nine on a Friday night because we were all at home slaving over a hot hairdo!!

As for the tight stretch black jeans, I’m not sure I would ever want to put my testicles through that again.

But it was a good time and I would never change it for the world. It is amusing to see teenagers going through the same pains in hair and tight jeans!!

My other addition is my amusing sight for the day, which occurred on my way home from the pub. It was a strange sight. A drunk man trying to quietly get a large (2ft by 3ft by 2ft) cage of birds in through his front door at around midnight.
I don’t think I need to add any more.
In fact by not adding any more I give any one reading the chance to ponder for themselves – what happened next?