More IFSC wildlife, humans this time.
Just back from a coffee sortie. No sign of the IFSC Duck today. However, there’s this ‘odd couple’ that I keep seeing hanging around by George’s Dock. She’s about 70, he’s somewhere between 25 and 40. They’re both well dressed and groomed… except in bizarre clothes. She wears mohair sweaters and a weird green tam’o’shanter. Yesterday she was in her socks, a pair of pristine green Wellington boots lying on the path beside her. This morning it was blue and red Argyle socks, and bedroom slippers. She has an old, but high quality leather handbag, and an assortment of those multi-coloured and patterned collapsible canvas shopping bags, full of stuff.
He’s a simpler soul. No Baggage. Black runners, baggy trousers, dark jacket. Wooly hat. He’s darker, perhaps of Pakistani or Indian origin. He could be her son though, and perhaps the father was Asian. There’s something childish about him.
This morning, I walked past, she was talking to/at him, in what sounded like a Irishised German accent. I could be wrong. He listened, nodded. This tends to be shape of things.
I came back, they were sitting on different benches, him with his legs splayed out, waving his hands in circular movements, and looking vacantly in my direction. She had her handbag on her lap, and was doing her makeup.
Who are they? Why do they choose to sit in the IFSC of a morning?
i reckon he’s the wandering jew and she is anastacia romanov..
Right, at lunchtime, saw the again, lounging in the sun outside the dry cleaners. She’s changed the green tam’o’shanter for a knitted yellowish wool beret with a bobble. Smart move. She’s talking at yer man still.
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