A good walk spoiled...

Thanks to Mark Twain for the title, but no, I haven't been on the fairway, in a natty pair of plus-fours, some two-tone wingtip loafers and a diamond-paned sleeveless sweater...

Image courtesy of sportart.ca

 ...or even the female equivalent.

No, indeed not.

I am talking about an actual walk, bright and early(ish) yesterday morning, spoilt by a really horrible incident. 

Mr U-t-B and I are going out for gradually longer and longer walks close to home, as part of his recuperation from the spinal surgery (he's doing really well and is now allowed to drive again, which he'd not expected to be able to do for another four weeks).

Yesterday we set off just before eight, with Miss U-t-B, who was walking to her friend's, where she gets a lift to the school bus stop.  A couple of corners away there is a little shop, and people often park partly on the pavement when they go in to pick things up, but today, there was a car skewed almost all the way across the pavement, so we had to edge round.  There was a young man 

- no, that's too nice a thing to call him -

yob 

in the passenger seat, with the door open.  As we approached I was glad that I was wearing my sunnies, because I felt he was really staring at me, and I didn't want to make eye contact.  

If I'd been wearing a skirt, I'd have thought I'd tucked it in my knickers.  

I even began to wonder if I had inexplicably, and quite suddenly, grown a second head.

I had momentarily wondered if this 'lad' was someone I used to teach, but from behind my sunglasses I could see it was not, and was puzzled by the staring.

We continued on our way, round the corner.  

A minute or so later, the car that had been on the pavement pulled up along side us, and the passenger started shouting foul-mouthed abuse at Mr U-t-B (mostly focused on his beautiful shiny head, but peppered with - no - laden with expletives that began with the letters f, c and b).  The passenger was 'asking' in the foulest of ways, why Mr U-t-B had been looking at him.  (Mr U-t-B had in fact been looking at the bottle of beer he was drinking.  This may be due to the fact that he only yesterday had his first beer in three months (not that he's much of a drinker, anyway) or it may have been that he was thinking about how you could be drinking at that time in the morning.)

The tirade continued for a minute or so, with the car crawling along the road and the driver joining in, as we walked and tried not to get involved.  (There was also a girl in the back.)  Then the car shot off, only to reverse up and start the abuse again.

Mr U-t-B did 'explain' that he'd been looking because the car was across the pavement and it was difficult to get round, and I told them to get on their way - without any swearing I hasten to add.  Luckily they did then drive off.

I was, needless to say, quaking in my sandals. 

We saw Miss U-t-B to her friends and carried on, only to see the car heading back up the road towards us.

More abuse followed from both passenger and driver before they finally got bored and drove off.

So this evening, to recover from the trauma, we had a well-earned glass of wine with our meal.  I toasted my 'bald freak' of a husband, and he toasted his 'skanky wife'.

What is the world coming to?