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Monday, March 06, 2006


It's been cold of late. Two things spring to mind from this particular seasonal treat. The first joy is that of standing still outside on the front door for 6 hours. This is not a thing a sensible person would attempt. Most folks however inappropriately wrapped would only spend a few minutes outside as they hop between taxi and pub/taxi and club/pub and club/pub and take-away. Though wearing thick socks and very study boots, T-shirt, shirt, waistcoat, overcoat, hat, scarf and gloves the cold will permeate. No problem you think, just pop inside and defrost every now and again and let another cool down while you warm yourself. This provides little reflief however. When shuffled inside for a short while, after doffing hat, scarf, gloves and overcoat you inevitably are rapidly too hot. This is possible even though your extremities still resemble ice cubes. This rapid overheating speeds your return to the door where upon donning your hat, scarf, gloves and overcoat you are standing in the early hours of the morning on a clear frost hardened night sweating to cool off with limbs rapidly tingling from the formation of ice crystals in your blood. Repeating this human tempering process will lead only to a headcold and sinus pain the following day. To stay out and accept a thorough freezing with the hope of defrosting some distant dream is, I have found the best solution.

The second thing that ocurs is the use of frozen, iced roads as a source of great hilarity. Now A.N. Other punter will be out on the tiles in their finest Saturday night get up including the slick soled dancing shoes and stylish light patterned shirt. The female counter part has ditched her sensible work trousers and winter thickness tights in favour of a denim/leather/faux leather/light cotton belt and strappy open toe shoes with heels that raise her from dwarf to acceptable with only 3-4 inch heels, usually accompanied by a cleavage/midriff/back showing top and b. all else. To watch these fine inebriated souls prance/dance/slide/glide down the frozen streets is fine entertainment for the sober though only for the inevitable thump as backside lands solidly on ice coated tarmac. The bambi like efforts to resurrect themselves are equally amusing though often tainted with sympathy as the fine dressed folk stagger on to your door or someone else’s wearing the blackened salted slush puppy that dwells on the roads in this season. The sympathy seldom extends to letting these fine Saturday nighters in however once they’ve got that freshly gritted and salted look.

The prize offering of my weekend was the lady whose shoes were clearly such an obstacle to her enjoyment of the night that she retired homewards at 3 in the morning along the snow dusted streets barefoot.

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