30th April 2004:
Liz Daplyn: Always Coming Home sillustrated by Katarina Karlsson"THE CERTIFIED INSANE
THEY ALL SEEM TO KNOW MY NAMEThere was a gent on my train home last Sunday with one amputated thumb and a lot of issues, who told me he had left a rehab centre earlier in the day, and who was a long way down a bottle of whisky (who knows how many had gone before?) by the time I met him. He was quite nice, although a bit too insistent about kissing my hand when he introduced himself, and his short-term memory was all to hell from the drink. We had a discussion about connections between people and how your confidence diminishes whenever they break. I had to move seats when he started to sway and burp prior to copious vomiting.
ALTHOUGH MY EYES SAY
"PLEASE IGNORE ME!"If I was being a really 'good' person I'd have stayed with him, but to be honest I get a bit fed up of vaguely lecherous drunk men approaching me in public (although it doesn't happen that often, I seem to get a disproportionate volume of tramp love), even if it is possible to have a perfectly civilised conversation with them. I'd rather stick with my friends or people who I know in advance will be interesting and not encroach on my personal space. This doesn't, of course, exclude random fruitful meetings, but one has to be wary of the general public, I find. "
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