like an old man

Like an old man, I fell over running for the train yesterday. From this the lower palm of both my hands are sore and my right thumb has a small red blemish on it that threatens to crack open and spurt something out when I do something manly with my fists eg turn taps tightly.

People were very solicitous when they saw me fall and this just confirms I am an old man. If you saw a young man fall he would probably be falling into a commando point a gun at you position. Or some other killing attitude, with a knife or vampire teeth or something.

As an old man I have to go and get my foot x-rayed (I am an old man so I tend to call them röntgen rays). This is because it has been hurting for some months now and the doctor thinks I might have arthritis. This seemed particularly so in her mind because the foot hurts when I wake up, but not after I walk on it for a while. I see a positive: I like walking and it is good for me and now perhaps no-one can stop me walking as they are always trying to do, as it stops me having pain. The other possibility is I suppose I might have to have the foot removed and replaced with something bionic, hopefully, a bionic foot though a duck’s head as per umbrellas might be nifty. I always thought that was an extraordinary idea and charmingly humorous. Did they use real ones.

There are so many advantages to our fine multicultural society and one is that when, for instance as now in my proximity (at Glenroy station) people have loud conversations in a language other than English, I can’t understand them and so they don’t annoy me. I bet whatever these youngsters (girl ‘n’ guy) are talking about loudly it would annoy me a lot if I understood it and felt compelled to follow its narrative. They are surely talking about driving fast cars and eating mcdonalds.