Punch and Judy

Oh yeah!

B: An anecdote about a bleeding pensioner
On the day before my sister's wedding, Lucy, my friend Alex and I went out for a drink in Sidmouth. It was quite early in the day. Probably too early to be drinking, but we were in a mood to flout convention, I suppose. I was wearing an argument, Alex was dusting a soldier from the American Civil War, and Lucy was composed mainly of phosphorescent antlers.

Sidmouth is a small seaside town. Actually, I don't know if that's true. I'm not sure where it ranks on the scale of seaside towns. It could be relatively large for all I know. But it is a seaside town. And is smaller than India.

You know all about Sidmouth, of course, if you've been reading this blog from the beginning. We were living there when I began this Headscissors thing. But I feel I should accommodate the (what I imagine is) thousands of new readers I get each week. Welcome to you all.

So we went out at about half past eleven. Probably too early to be drinking. We went to Duke's which is Sidmouth's social hub (at least as far as my family is concerned) - a very nice pub/coffee shop on the sea front.

We ordered Pimm's, because it was summer and we're middle class. Also, I don't like drinking, but Pimm's doesn't taste like alcohol. So I can drink it to fit in with the rest of society. Like hanging out with cool smokers by using one of those joke-shop talcum powder cigarettes.

Alex also bought some crisps. If I remember correctly, they were Nobby's crisps. He was furious! Ahahahaha! Not really. That is the brand name. What a hilarious misunderstanding. I think they were an odd flavour. Like squid. Or jet skis.

As I said, it was sunny, so we went to sit on one of the tables outside, overlooking the sea. The table we sat on was wooden, and I believe it was round. It might have been hexagonal. It might even have been square. It could have been any shape. It could have been a pyramid. It could have been a Moebius strip, with a single pork scratching, discarded years ago, rolling across its surface for eternity.

But let's just say it was round. The shape of the table is important for what follows.

We sat at regular intervals around the table. Evenly spaced. We didn't discuss it beforehand, but it must have been instinct. If two of the three companions are closer together it creates seeds of doubt in the mind of the other. And seems a bit like a job interview.

We were sat at evenly-spaced intervals around the table, drinking Pimm's (even though it was probably too early to be drinking), and having hilarious banter (Alex loves banter - and the suffix "-gate", but that's not relevant here).

After a couple of minutes, I looked up and saw a paramedic.

I don't know how I missed him before.

He was wearing a luminous jacket. With "PARAMEDIC" written on it. It was like he was trying to be seen.

But I'd only just noticed him.

Because of our spacing around the table, neither Lucy nor Alex could see him (I told you it was relevant). Lucy was facing back towards Duke's, Alex was facing something else (perhaps a bronze statue of a seagull) and trying to do a crossword. Trying.

So it was my duty to say to these oblivious people "Hey, there's a paramedic!". Except I didn't.

Because the job of a paramedic is to help injured people. And there was an injured person.

That's why the paramedic was there. All the pieces fell together, like I jigsaw thrown from a hovercopter.

A couple of tables in front of me (unseen my my companions) was an old woman, looking slightly shaken, the back of her head covered in blood.

I don't use the phrase "old woman" lightly. It could be a bit reductive. But I'm 99% sure she was a woman. And I think pretty much everyone would have considered her old.

Though the blood was quite conspicuous, I think it was mainly because it covered her hair. I don't think there was a huge amount. But seeing an OAP's red rinse is a bit shocking, especially when you've been drinking Pimm's, and especially when it's probably a bit too early to be drinking, and especially when your sister's getting married the next day.

Well OK, the latter thing may not have had any impact on my reaction. But it adds a sense of significance to an anecdote which, to be honest, isn't nearly as interesting as this build-up would lead you to believe.

I hadn't seen the injury occur. I suppose she must have fallen and hit her head. She didn't seem too badly hurt - she was sitting up outside Duke's, not lying in hospital - but did seem to be getting stitches.

Anyway, that's not the salient issue. In fact, I resent her for taking up so much of my time already.

"Stupid woman! Look where you're going! Have some Nobby's crisps, you idiot! No he won't mind! Ahahaha! Not really. That is the brand name. What a hilarious misunderstanding."

The real issue was my reaction, which was to...

not really do anything - and not tell Lucy or Alex.

They couldn't see what was going on. They were having a pleasant time in the Devon sun, struggling through a crossword, eating Nobby's crisps (ahahaha), and drinking Pimm's, (and it was probably just about late enough by now to start drinking).

I didn't want to make them feel slightly uncomfortable. Which is all it would have been. Slightly uncomfortable. There's a bleeding pensioner nearby. She's being looked after by a professional medic. She'll be fine. We don't need to do anything. But we would feel slightly uncomfortable.

So I hid the fact.

And quite well, too. Especially considering I'd been drinking, and it was my sister's wedding the next day (and I'm not the best at keeping secrets at the best of times - just ask my gay friend Chris).

I felt quite altruistic. I was already feeling slightly uncomfortable. But I took one for the team.

Though my altruism was tempered by the fact that 10% of the justification for my silence was that I couldn't be bothered to move. After all, we had Nobby's crisps and newspaper spread across the place.

I don't want to get up just because there's a granny wearing a crimson hairnet, getting stitched up like fucking Batman.

I told Lucy about it afterwards. I don't know if I ever told Alex. If he's reading this: now you know the truth. I'm sorry for the secrecy. But I feel it was for your own good.

We had a pleasant time after that. I got quite drunk (and it was definitely too early for that), and we went home and had lunch. Or we did after Lucy volunteered us to go and get milk.

Three drunkards, off to get milk.

That poor cow...

So that's Bleeding-Pensionergate. A story of me seeing something mildly unusual and not telling anyone about it.

I might make it into a screenplay, starring Maggie Smith as Bleeding Pensioner and James Nesbitt as Nobby.