Tis the season for being blind!

Let me begin by saying there is no shame in being single. In fact it’s a time in ones life where one is footloose and fancy free! Kicking and frolicking around like a lamb in spring – doing that funny leap thing they do. Yes, it may resemble a spasm or tick, but for the purposes of this article, we are now immersing ourselves in the sounds of; rushing rivers, sweet songbirds and the bleating of bar bar Blackface (yep, that really is the name of a breed – I kid you not)! So we have established how wonderful it should be being a singleton, however I appreciate that it’s not only the weather that can be a little harsh in this season. All around is the stink of coupledom – gifts for him, surprise her with…

“No, just one ticket for the Winter Wonderland big wheel please.”

Why is it that that single sentence not only doesn’t sound right, it feels like an abomination!

“One seat?”

Cue earthquake, tsunami, hurricane, fire hail from the heavens!  Why is it that this time of year in particular, being single seems to have a rather venomous sting in its tail? Perhaps it’s the Bridget Jones theory of yet another year has passed, only to arrive at your parents home at exactly the same point you left it last year, flying solo! Or maybe it’s the simple and selfish fact that there is at least one more gift in it for you? Personally, I think it’s down to a basic physiological desire. The overwhelming urge, neigh, base need and I hasten to add normal function, of what makes us human. What am I talking about? You guessed it, being warm (why what were you thinking?). Going Christmas shopping arms linked or at least hand in hand = warm. Overpriced festive amusement park rides cuddled together in the seats  = warm.

Now that I have you seated comfortably and relaxed… do you lower your standards to achieve the above? In the words of Joseph, “any dream will do.” Bam! In for the jugular. Okay okay! I’m not saying that this is a global pandemic but I have to admit, I might have observed a few fellas that I may not have given a second glance to, when enjoying warm rays beating down on my back, in the summer month(s). That said, one is painfully aware that New Year’s eve is fast approaching, and a repeat of last year’s sloppy bristly wet one from prevy cousin Pat (who really isn’t a relative at all), can not happen again. Nor is the prospect of being grabbed at midnight, by a random who’s been drinking since midday, appealing either.

As we are all in agreement that 1. somethings should never happen (see above) and 2. will NEVER happen again (also see above) here are some things to remember when looking to move from being a singleton to coupledom. Know what you what within a relationship and what value you bring to an “us”. Never pass up an opportunity to socialise in new circles. Standards are not the same as ideals (give up on the Brangelina lookalike.) Think of a first date as just another fun outing with a friend. However above all of this, never never forget “cousin” Pat’s puckered pout and always keep this mathematic formula to love in mind; the longer you wait for “the one” the higher the percent of you being found alone and half eaten by your twelve cats.

Picture the scene…

I’m sat on the end seat by the door on the Vicky Blue, steaming towards Brixton. The train pulls into Victoria station and like all others I share the carriage with, my eyes are fixed to my phone, rows of heads buried in books (or a Kindles these days –  I ask, what is wrong with a book? They still work: Pages, check. Words, check. Cover, half check as sometimes missing or damaged but not essential for reading pleasure, check. (Kindle, I rue the day of your conception.  Amazon, a curse be in both your houses.) Of course not forgetting those looking very intently at the Evening Standard or any of the number of free media  paraphernalia that is thrust in our direction at every opportunity. Arhh, the social etiquette of the underground.

So a guy gets on with what looks like a broken arm, and here’s where the issue arises.

There are no more seats available:

Do I…

a) ignore the fact he has what looks like a broken arm and assume he’s fine?
b) ignore the fact he has what looks like a broken arm and feel terribly guilty that I haven’t asked if he’s okay standing?
c) ignore the fact he has what looks like a broken arm & feel mortified when the train jerks suddenly and he goes hurtling down the centre of the carriage landing face down in another man’s lap?
d) do not ignore the fact that he has what looks like a broken arm and offer my seat and feel utterly humiliated when he declines and everybody in the carriage joins him in giving me that, {head shaking} “tut tut, are you stupid? It’s a broken arm!” look?
e) hope that c happens so I can join the rest of the carriage in doing our best impression of a pack of hyenas?


Chewing over my predicament. Heart wrenched, “what do you do in this situation?” (Answers on a postcard.)

There I was mulling over my answer, beads of sweat running down my forehead and as the train pulled into Green Park, I had made my decision. The train came to a stop. I looked up at the casted commuter only to watch him exit.

Here it Begins…

Let’s talk about stuff, baby!
Let’s talk about you & me
Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad thing that may be.
(Come on, sing it with me)
Let’s talk about stuff!

“Do you come here often?” Well I should hope so because here we find ourselves, or at least this is where I find myself. It’s been a long time coming, incubating in my literally womb, It’s time to share the lunacy and often insightful, randomness that populates my mind most of the time.

Never spiteful or malicious but an honest opinion about the mechanics and imaginations of a situation according to moi. How much more sophistika would that sound if I said; “according to the Dr” or better yet, “unwrapping social origami according to the Professor.” Fail! However I do have prophetic gifting so perhaps I’ll dub myself, “Proctor”. Still not as good as Dr Phil.

Rest assured that Proc or not, I will be mind-dumping and unravelling all manner of fun thing in this space, so do come again soon.

Finally,  hello and welcome to… You me Oliie & the Tracks.


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