One of the joys of using public transport, and of working in the middle of the city again, is that one gets to see all sorts of stuff not generally spotted from the driver’s seat of a small urban runabout. This evening, for example, while standing at the busiest bus stop in the known Universe, I spotted a young dandy strolling by. This elegant chap was sporting pointy boots, scarlet “drainpipe” trousers, flouncy shirt, waistcoat, frock coat and a top hat with a Carroll-esque price tag stuck in the band. But it wasn’t actually his garb which I noted, so much as what he was carrying.
- Was it a gold-topped walking cane with lion-head motif?
- Was it an invitation from the Queen to play croquet?
- Was it, perhaps, a small, china teapot containing a somnolent dormouse?
No. This dapper fellow, this stylish man about town, was hefting a 4 pint bottle of semi-skimmed milk.
I love incongruity. It’s so
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