Jessie at the cricket [photo]I was in a Dr's waiting room last week; my stomach has been playing merry hell with the stress I've been unsuccessfully dealing with. I saw this guy a mile off: a man in an electronic wheelchair had just managed to break free from his relentless, pointless ramblings and had made off at speed through the automatic doors into sweet freedom. I envied that man, at that moment, as I desperately tried to will myself invisible.
He sat opposite me and as his head turned I realised even if I were a chameleon and had managed to turn myself the primary-school blue of the plastic chair I was sat on it wouldn't have made the tiniest difference: he had the thickest glasses I have ever seen on, which magnified his eyes threefold. This was not a sight for the weak-willed, sensitively-disposed or those struggling with stress with an unpredictable stomach.
I honestly believe these type of patients should be sat in a different area, away from people with stress, depression, or young children.
He started talking; I read my phone. I refused to be sucked into those giant lenses. I texted everyone I knew: come on, ya bastards, reply. He carried on talking: "I'm thinking of going to France this year, I say going - I probably won't. Well, you don't do you: you say you're going to but then you don't. Still, it'd be good to get away". At this point I swallowed my tongue. Yes, it'd be bloody good to get away.
I started reading posters on the wall: incontinence, migraines, testicular cancer: I was riveted.
He didn't stop, I couldn't keep letting him talk to my ear, besides a young fat girl was judging me for being rude (fair enough, I was judging her too) "I've read the Bible have you read the Bible? (I nod, stunned by the goggles) It's a long book. I read the Ten Commandments - it took me ages" But how, with those thick glasses surely you could read not only the fine print but God's thoughts right out of his mind. "I got a Bible with pictures, you know - gave it to my sister. I think I'll buy her a new one this year" (nod) WHY would you buy someone the same present twice? I excused myself to ask the receptionist if there was some delay: my Dr was running late but I was assured I was next. There was no escaping the lenses, I had to go back - but I was buoyed by the fact soon I would be as free as the disabled man before me. I sat down.
"Are you married?" Not a question I could nod to "no" "oh - you look like you'd be married" - I was transfixed. Those milk bottle ends had me: "why's that?" "well you know your age" There was that laugh again; somewhere between a mocking snort and a nervous giggle. I was surprised; no-one has ever said I look married before and I was, I'll admit without any shame, curious. "how old do you think I am?"
You see, this is the point where I went wrong. Never, under any circumstances, it doesn't matter if he's talking to you relentlessly and you feel hideously rude ignoring him or none of your friends who are usually completely reliable in texting you back -don't, nor does it matter that the fat girl is judging you or that you've ran out of pages in the tatty cheap magazine: there is no situation when engaging in conversation with crazy people is a good idea. Ever.
"In your thirties". I was horrified and would've needed oscar-level acting skills to hide it, which I do not have. I rallied with "probably just tired" to which he replied, laughing "yeh".
It's just possible I'll never get that supe'd up gaze out of my head; I'll forever be haunted by that super-charged magnified vision staring straight into every pore and crease in my face. Crazy or not; the man had the hubble telescope strapped to his face and if he says I look ten years older then I believe him.
I had aged 10 years in 30 minutes, but I had a pretty good idea why.
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