Today was lovely, but don’t you meet some strange characters when you’re walking along the seafront in a coastal Norfolk town?
I really fancied an ice-cream so we wandered over to the fella near the amusements who had one of those bikes with a cooler basket on the front, and a ‘Rolando’s Ices’ sign above his head.
I don’t want to go into an over-descriptive character assassination of someone, so instead I shall simply list the facts about him and you can get your own mental picture and make your own assumptions:
We could smell his B.O. well before we reached him.
He had a mangy terrier tied to the bike that he was stroking in between serving customers.
At least two of his fingernails had blood on them; at least two others had an undetermined but suspicious-looking brown substance.
He kept wiping his nose on the back of his hand.
He ‘cleaned’ his scoop between servings by wiping it on his T-shirt.
His beard had something crusty caked in it (my guess was lasagne, Sophie thought it was vomit)
Suffice to say, we went to a café for a cuppa instead…
RC 16-3-14
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