Some while ago, after an evening down the pub with my good friends Chris and Mick I stood sometime at the bus-stop, before catching the bus home. Eventually I reached my stop.
After getting off, I stood at the bus-stop waiting for the bus to pass on – so that I could cross the road behind it. However after a few seconds before the exit door had closed a woman leapt to her feet and hurtled towards the exit, only to trip or fall from the bus into my arms which I raised instinctively.
“I’m sorry” she slurred, as we hugged! “It’s alright” I replied, “glad to have been here to catch you”. Clearly, she seemed to be in some distress, so I asked “is there anything I can do”? Much to my surprise, she said “ Yes! Would you see me across the road, only – I’ve had a girls night out with friends and I’m afraid I’m a bit squiggly”.
On safely reaching the other side of the road, I asked “where are you going as it is quite late?” After a few seconds of thought, she told me her destination was just a few streets away, and as I had nothing really pressing at that moment, I offered to walk her home. “That’s very kind of you” she mumbled. The walk to her home wasn’t easy as, I’d had a good drink and she had probably had even more than me! We weaved, more than a little – I held onto her hand!
Trying to make ‘small talk’ I asked “ What’s your name and why had her evening been so invigorating”? I won’t say her name but it transpired she had met up with several of her old school friends, and drunk more than she intended. I sympathised saying “yes, well we have all been there” when we passed a nondescript front garden with a low brick wall in front of a waist high privet hedge, she tumbled backward, into the hedge.
Good grief I thought, as I dragged her out of the greenery, is she hurt, will the house owner be here any minute – ranting about his privet, how soon can I leave this drunk woman?
She was embarrassed and was started making an effort placing one foot in front of the other. We arrived at her home after a short time.
“Shall I knock on the door or ring the door bell“ I asked, and she was adamant that I shouldn’t – as in her words “her husband, wouldn’t understand!”
With that, I started to walk away. “Good night she called” in a very loud voice to which I only raised my hand in a wave. “Good night she called again in an even louder voice saying “ YOU’RE a fucking gentleman, a fucking gent”.
I could almost feel the curtains twitching as I passed back down that street.