Nota bene

In the morning, the sister, niece and I walked around Newcastle-under-Lyme cemetery. Who knew it occupied such a large space fairly well hidden close to the town centre.

When I left Scotland Michelle gave me a load of dosh that she owed, and I’ve found it harder than you might think to get rid of the Scottish notes. I got the train from Stoke and had time to visit the pie shop nearby (standard activity). A sign said they weren’t accepting Scottish notes due to risk of forgery, and I got into a debate with the server about whether this was illegal. Subsequent research tells me that it might be legal for shops in England to refuse Scottish notes, even if it feels annoying and anti-Scottish.

Social distancing recommendations must never get in the way of profit-making by train companies. A very crowded journey to London during which I squeezed into the vestibule, balancing on my bag.

In London I tried to palm off a Scottish note in a coffee shop, where the barista pulled a face. ‘It’s Scottish’, I clarified. ‘I know but I don’t like it,’ she replied. Whether she liked it or not wasn’t a useful contribution to the transaction.

I was sitting near to a group of 18-year old blokes when I finally got on the train to Cambridge. The way they were talking about girls they fancy, about being ghosted and about how to strategically delay replies to engage in the ‘game’ makes me glad beyond words that smart technology didn’t exist when I was an adolescent. I was perturbed by their talk of girls being ‘achievable’, which I know is extremely common bloke chat, but it perpetuates the rhetoric that women exist for the titillation of men, and is exactly what this year’s protests about women’s safety have sought to address. One of the lads’ fathers was there, which held me back from saying anything, although as always in these situations, I regretted it. I wanted to advise them that they may see more dating success if they focused less on rating their college mates’ achievability and more on forming connections based on personality and shared interests. I assume though that I would have been fighting a compelling tide of raging testosterone and excruciating oneupmanship. I am fairly sure girls find this sort of male behaviour mind-numbingly dull.

Today I was told I look like Jason Segel. A new one, but not entirely unreasonable a comparison.