can you tell me why you’re up there?”
And that does it. The guy definitely didn’t want me to bugger off. As it turns out, I get the distinct feeling he was just waiting for me to ask the right question. I discover that he used to be a London traffic cop. These days, well into retirement at the age of seventy, he likes to watch the intersection to make sure everyone drives safely. He tells me his name is Rolland and I introduce myself as Emily. When he drops a bomb of information I’m not even fazed. After all, just because some pipe smoking, wizard looking man sitting atop an electric metal box says he’s got a two year old daughter from his new Thai wife, doesn’t mean I’m inclined to believe him.
Although, judging by Rolland’s eccentric personality, I’d say anything goes with this particular gentleman.
“I’m not hurting anyone sitting up here.”
Oh my. Does he think that’s why I confronted him. “Oh no, you’re fine.” I smile cheerily up at him. “In fact, I’d say you’re doing everyone at these traffic lights a favour by looking out for their safety. You’ve gotten loads of car horn beeps and hand waves just while I’ve been standing here.”
Rolland the 1920s wizard returns a cheery grin. “Actually, my dear, I’m quite sure they’re not beeping their horns at me.” He glances down at my lower legs. “Those are awfully nice socks you’re wearing.”
He winks and I have to laugh. Okay so maybe he’s right. I should have honestly thought twice about walking out in public wearing such ridiculous socks. Oh well, it’s too late to change my apparel now, besides, I’m already near the cafe anyway. I think I can endure a few more beeps of embarrassment as I head up the road.
“Thanks for sharing!” I wave to Rolland the Wiz as I walk away. He sticks his pipe back between his lips and starts puffing. As I trot up the pavement I turn back for one last look at the strange, yet kind man. From this side of his electrical box I can plainly see a small set of concrete steps leading right up to the top of the box he’s sat on.
What a cheeky old man he is telling me he got up there by means of magic.
***
“What a convivial woman you are, boss lady.” Anika accosts me with her big words the moment I step through the door of the cafe with a large grin on my face. “Did you’re serpentine journey to work boost your spirits this fine day?”
“Serpentine?”
Anika nods. “Yes, I am thinking you walked to work along winding roads this morning, no?”
“Yes.” I nod too. “I did indeed walk because I need to lose weight for my wedding day.”
“You do not need to be losing weight, boss lady.” My wonderful assistant sets down the tray she’s been holding. “You do not have, how do you say vissza mell?” When she utters her Hungarian words, she pinches her upper back with both hands. “You know?” She adds. “The breasts upon the back.”
My jaw drops open in astonishment. “Anika!” I gape at her. “Are you making a joke about back-boobs?”
“Yes!” She pinches her back some more. “I have these horrible back-boobs like you do not!”
“Pah!” I snort a laugh. “Don’t be silly, you don’t have back-boobs at all.”
“I do, boss lady!” She starts doing some arm pulling motions up and down. “I need to bonk some iron at the gym!”
Smiling, I shake my head and pick up the tray she put down. “I think you mean pump iron, and no you don’t need to do any sort of weight lifting.” Back-boobs, I think to myself whilst snickering on my way to the kitchen. As if skinny Anika has even an ounce of fat on her back. Though she makes me thoughtful. I suppose every woman has hang-ups about certain areas of their bodies. I’m certainly no different. I’ve got many body parts about which I complain to myself mentally over every moment of the day, it seems.
Are we women honest with each other truly though? I know I do tell the truth to anyone who’s skinny that tells me they’re fat. I simply tell them they aren’t. Although, I do have a few female friends who are a bit chunkier than me and I have been known to bend the truth if they ever ask me how they look in a certain outfit. I’m reminded of a telly advert