It’s happening too often for it to be coincidental!
Over the past few years I seem to have been attracting women. “Isn’t that a good thing?” I hear you asking. Well not really Readers.
These women have sussed me out as the kind of fella who will part with a cigarette and not accept any remuneration, whether it was offered feebly or not.
Two recent incidents spring to mind both involving train journeys, but in rather differing circumstances.
About 3 or 4 months ago I was forced to take the train to work (and back). On the homeward journey there was a 20p saving to be had by walking through one of the lesser known streets behind Piccadilly Station, to a bus stop on the corner of Pollard Street. So there I was, minding my own business, and having a smoke. Not paying that much attention I was startled when a woman’s voice asked if she could “buy a cigarette”. As always, I said she could just take one. Then she asked for a light and obviously I cracked the age old gag and asked her “Shall I smoke it for you too?”.
Lit up and half turning away she then asked if I fancied a “b**w j*b”.
As always I was quick as a flash with my rather pathetic answer which was “Oh no it’s too cold!”
The really sad part to that story is that she even offered to reduce the price to £5.00! At the risk of getting serious it really is sad that someone can be reduced to that for a fiver.
The thing that made me remember that story was the second incident. I had just got off the train from Schiphol to Amersfoort. Despite the fact that the great outside world was about 1 minute’s walk away I felt obliged to stop at a Rookzone for a Rook (please see previous post on Rookzones).
Just after I had lit up, a girl of about 17 or 18 came up to me and started babbling in Hurdy Gurdy. After telling her loudly and slowly that she would have to have another crack at that in the Queen’s English, it translated into something quite familiar: “Do you have a shigarette pleash?” Again I did the necessary thinking that things were the same the world over.
This time though the supplementary question was a bit different than the Pollard Street experience. “Do you alsho have one for my friend?” – Lippy these Dutch!
Anyway I enjoyed a couple of minutes chatting to them both about Big Red and then proceeded to walk the wrong way down the platform, having to do a U-turn and walk past them again (for they were still enjoying their free rook) dragging my mulberry coloured suitcase behind me. It amused them a bit but I’d prefer that to the first experience any time.
So has someone secretly tatooed “Free Fags Here!” on my forehead. What’s it all about?
Answers on a postcard please!
