I have recently discovered two new rambling locations but, in the process have exposed myself to some al fresco romping. The first spot, we shall call it ‘the Common’ is picture perfect: it has a pond; it has water lilies; it has benches donated by dead people. It also has a mingling of topless men chasing each other around a large oak, laughing loudly. Further down the track, I come across another topless man carrying a plastic bag and walking much too briskly for the location. He is no doubt on his way to do some laughing himself. I wonder what’s in his plastic bag – sandwiches, a vest? I then nearly get mowed down by a Slavic looking lady with a gaberdine mack and court shoes. She looks deranged so I don’t exchange pleasantries. In my experience, you should always be wary of people dressed inappropriately for the location. Like the man in a Majorcan beach car park who was cleaning out his glove compartment wearing only a t-shirt. I thought at first maybe he had a skin condition and was getting some air to his bits but on closer inspection, I discovered he was actually bashing one out. At my next new rambling location, I come across some doggers getting ready for a matinee performance. I know this because they have their seats reclined to vertical plus they jump up like meerkats the moment I arrive – obviously thinking I am one of their kind. Wary of being sucked into their perverse shenanigans, I wave my chunky socks at them. However, I leave my pole in the boot just in case they think I’m a dominatrix.
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