Something Inside So Monday

I had some errands to run today, so I hopped on Glinda and made my way into town. Manchester is all blue skies and spring breezes. The boys are wearing sunglasses and girls are wearing sandals.

(The girls are also wearing expressions of horror because they don't look anything like the new H&M posters. Clearly they are going to have to if they are to 'do' summer properly, like a real woman. Luckily you can buy one of H&M's 'tunics' for £7.99, which is guaranteed to make you look like a gyrating model tripping along a sun-kissed beach.)

(Rant over. Well, it is over in this post, but in my head it never stops.)

I pulled up at some traffic lights and stopped as they went red. A white van pulled up alongside, windows wound down fully. As soon as it stopped I heard the words "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" shouted in a gravelly but excited male voice.

Two other similarly gravelly voices joined in for the most enthusiastic version of 'Something Inside So Strong' I have ever heard, complete with turned up stereo and rudimentary beatboxing.

I grinned at them, but they were so caught up in the moment that clearly the world outside that van faded away. The lights changed and they sped off, leaving me with the strains of "...though you're doing me wrong, so wrong" and a broken stereotype.

I accidentally told the man in the vegetable van that I was cooking a Thai Green Curry tonight. I am not cooking a Thai Green Curry tonight. Ben is cooking something, and I was buying ingredients. One of these ingredients is some galanga. I asked for some. The man cheerily replied that they didn't have any, and that I should probably go to China Town. Alright, thanks, I said. Then the conversation went like this:

Van Man: Are you making curry?
Me: *he seems to really want me to be making curry*
Me: Yes.
Van Man: Oh, great. A green one?
Me: *um*
Me: Yes.
Van Man: Oh lovely. What else are you putting in it?
Me: Oh, you know. Bits and bobs. Bye!

It was awkward. Lying is one thing, but lying out of potential social awkwardness is just silly.

I went to China Town and found somewhere to lock my bike. A few feet away from me a tall girl was taking a photo. I glanced over to see what she was photographing, and saw a tall man standing by the Chinese arch. He was grinning, and pulling out the corners of his eyes. She was laughing.

I did a double take and dropped my bike.

Picking it up, I looked around again and he was still doing it, but had stuck his teeth over his lower lip. She was still giggling. I dropped my bike again.

If Glinda is broken and I have to claim on the insurance, I am going to file that the reason for the damage was "casual racism".

Then I went to Maplin, the electronics shop, and overheard a man in stonewashed blue denim claiming that "a man can never have enough string lighting", much to the gleeful agreement of his friend.

As excursions go, it was quite good. I have decided need to stop lying just because I sense that someone really wants me to be able to cook, people have to stop being racist and men have to stop loitering in Maplin saying stupid things.

I would like more white van man karaoke, though.