Saint Clarkey

Ooty has been really good for me.  I have loved the peace, quiet and anonymity.  I woke up feeling the happiest I have been in a long time.  My relaxed state soon turned to sheer panic when I realised that my bank card was missing.  I am not sure if it was stolen or if I lost it but the bottom line is, again I am up shit street.  

Clarkey again came to my rescue.  I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her.  Time and time again she has bailed me out of trouble (I seem to get in a lot).  She arranged for me to pick up money from Western Union (thanks for the tip, Harvi although I didn’t think I would be needing it so soon).  Clarkey I owe you everything.  I love, love, love you.  Thank you.   I now just have to make sure that I don’t to lose the money.   I hate myself, but I am now sporting a very attractive bumbag so that I don’t lose anything.  I look as cool as fuck!

Barclays, again, have been most unhelpful.  Tosspots!  (that excludes our Jo.  She works for Barclays and is not a tosspot at all.  In fact she is the bestest sister a girl could ask for.  Hello Joey (she loves being called Joey.  Or just Decan for short). 

I went to the local market to have a mince around and soon regretted doing so.  The fruit and veg part was lovely but then I came to the animal section.  It was heartbreaking seeing all the animals in cages.  It’s just part of how they live though and I have no room to talk seeing as I eat meat.  I quite obviously look like a tourist but this didn’t stop one bloke from trying to sell me a chicken.  What the fuck am I going to do with a live chicken?  I said no but he kept on, lowering the price.  The only way he was going to get money out of me was to kill it, cook it and put it in a bap. 

I was looking forward to reporting that in all the time I was in Ooty I didn’t get hit on once.  Alas that has gone out of the window.  This afternoon a young bloke on a bike (how can they all afford bikes?) pulled up to say that he knew I was staying at Reflections Guest House (eerie) and he would give me a lift home.  I said I wanted to walk and then he gave me a sob story about it being his birthday (his 20^th birthday.  Now I don’t mind ‘em young but that is bordering on Glitter territory) and had no one to celebrate with. 

I said if I had time I would call him later (I know. I really need to learn to be more forthright).  I obviously didn’t call and so instead he took to lurking about outside the guest house.  Julie Walters (who in all the time I have been here has been wearing just a dressing gown) came into her own when she knocked for me and asked me if I wanted her to get rid of him.  I knew there was a reason why I liked her.  She then went into a full on tirade about how men are all lecherous cretins and how men were always throwing themselves at her.   Hopefully you can now get a picture of how bad they are, if they are trying to hit on Mrs Overall.