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.  

Egg / Chocolate / Beer

I was planning to go on a hiking tour but I woke up too late (my bed really is that comfortable) so instead I just kicked about in town.  On my travels I met an old man.  He didn’t have a tooth in his head and looked like he hadn’t had a good meal (or wash) in weeks.  He felt the need to show me that he has 6 fingers on one hand.  Well, it was more like the thumb had two fingers nails.  Super freaky.  I wanted to take a picture but I thought that might be seen as slightly insensitive.  Suddenly, without warning, he burst into tears.  I couldn’t really work out why (maybe I just have that effect of men).  I felt really sorry for him so gave him some money to get a coffee.  He then hugged me so hard I thought I might break in two.  I might need to get myself another tetanus jab!

On my way to lunch (I had an egg curry.  I love an egg, me.  My friend Jane once told me that I speak about eggs much more than the average person, so I promise I’ll try to limit my egg conversations to just this one) I thought I would count the homemade chocolate shops (Do you understand why I sometimes question what it is I’m doing here?).  I gave up after about 100.  Every other shop is a chocolate shop.  It’s like the East End with  fried chickens shops.  There really is no need, guys!

I found a place to eat and as normal I was the only person in there.  After about 5 minutes a really young school boy came to sit opposite me.  He could have only been about 8 years old.  The place was really big and there were about 10 spare tables he could have chosen.  The weirdest part is that he didn’t even speak to me.  It was really disarming.  When I smiled at him, he looked at me like I was a nonce.  Funny little fella.

On the way home I saw a beer shop so I got my brave hat on and went inside to order a couple of bottles.  Women just don’t go into these shops (I used to think that they weren’t allowed.  Apparently they are but is just doesn’t happen) so to suddenly have a chick rocking up is probably weird for them.  They didn’t feel the need to hide their amusement.  The blokes inside (customers and staff) were blatantly laughing at me.  They even called people out of the storeroom to come and see the funny western alki girl.  To makes matters worse they then roll the bottles individually in newspaper, to make you feel like a total tramp.    Still the humiliation was worth it.  I got beer! God bless Kingfisher.