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A badger, recently. This is what one looks like, Mr. Davies. |
Recently, I engaged in a little sporting activity, to whit a 10 kilometre run on a course taking in two laps of South London's well-known Clapham Common. Whilst I was shambling my way through the brambles in, erm, "hot pursuit" of various well-formed female rear ends, which resembled jelly on springs, Mrs. Tampon repaired to one of the common's cafes for a cup of tea and a small repast.
As she nibbled her toast and marmite, two shaven-headed gentlemen of a somewhat effeminate demeanour entered the cafe, complaining loudly to all and sundry therein about "all these runners taking over the park", threatening to complain about the presence of said runners to Lambeth Council, and plaintively asking the question, "where are we meant to go?"
"The toilets, maybe?" said Mrs. Tampon, sotto voce. What she meant by this remark, I can only speculate. The gentlemen were possibly unduly irked by such a minor irritant to their day due to chronic constipation, or persistent incontinence. Or, perhaps, they were a little upset that the race route went "off piste", if you will, leaving the paths to wend its way through the dense foilage, thus at a stroke rendering wholesome activities such as wildflower collecting and butterfly spotting impossible for their adherents.
When I related this encounter to some of my fellow athletes after the conclusion of the event, they expressed their views are to what caused these gentlemen such obvious heartbreak; these views impugned the reptuations of the park dwellers in such a way that I could not possibly repeat them here.
In an effort to introduce reason and balance to the eloquent yet wild speculation, I pointed out that South London's fine parks and open spaces were a wonderful conduit for the relief of the stresses of everyday life; an ideal place, perhaps, for a high ranking politician to secure an unexpected invite to dine at somebody's home, or perhaps for an actor noted for the intensity of his performances to walk his dog at four in the morning.
However, though these parks and open spaces are home to many exotic flora and fauna, it seems that badgers are not among them, and that if one wishes to have a close encounter with such a creature, one must travel a little further afield. Perhaps I should lobby Lambeth Council on behalf of our metropolitan badger fanciers, in order that they may pursue their chosen hobby a little closer to home.
Do others who are "married to their careers" seek relief from their myriad professional woes by soujourns in and around metropolitan public spaces?
