Seagull sandwich

As usual, at lunchtime I was rushing across that horrible large square in Truro – actually, apparently, called the Piazza; though I would actually say it's Lemon Quay, but anyway it's just a wide, windy, open bit of concrete ground; whatever, it's not that important – eating my sandwich when something landed on my head. It was a large seagull attempting to steal my lunch. I swore loudly, it jumped onto the floor, I stamped my foot to scare it off; it barely blinked. I was then aware I was in the centre of a city at lunchtime and people were probably looking at me. I strided ahead. Then I heard a man’s voice shouting – possibly at me, as I’d just steamed past a young couple. ‘Oi, who are you swearing at?’ I carried on walking. ‘Oi, don’t walk away from me. I’m talking to you.’ I didn’t know what he was talking about. I carried on walking, not looking back. ‘Oi you!’ I continued walking until his voice died away. I wasn’t entirely sure he was shouting at me, but his voice sounded like it was aimed in my direction. Maybe he’d thought I was swearing at him, not realising it was actually a seagull. Anyway, suddenly two Asian students with clipboards block my way and ask me if I’m having a good day. I ask them if they’re joking. Would you have time to fill in a survey for us? They ask me. I walk on ahead, fuming. I told this story back at work and they said my life was like that of Larry David. Welcome to my life. All I wanted was to do, aside from eat my sandwich in peace, was to buy Bob Dylan's new Bootleg Series – Vol. 15, Travellin' Thru, 1967-1969, from HMV, which I did, and of course love it.

Previously on Barnflakes
Notes on being me