Imaginary Conversations in Hyde Park

This past weekend London had been briefly visited by Spring. 

I didn't know that Spring had the personality of Lindsay Lohan: so much hype, so much promise, but so late showing up and when she does - it's a quick entrance, ducks out of vision and leaves without saying good bye. 

Via eonline.com

But momentarily, there was sun and we almost hit double digits in the temperature - it was 9 degrees people!

But considering it was just snowing a few days before, I felt I had to be a good host to Spring and went to the park to greet her.

I like to take a walk on my own - I get to think properly.

I don't even listen to music - just my own thoughts.
And other people's conversations.

I decided to sit in the Lido cafe having a cup of tea with some papers, getting some Vitamin D, and people watching.

Via Flickr

The park was full of people full of like minded people trying to catch a glimpse of the sun rays.

I know we all do this, please tell me you do, but don't you sometimes wish you could just go up to certain people and have a quick word?  I know I do.  Good thing I was alone because I was busy having imaginary conversations in my head with these people. 

That way you also get the last word.

Well there were a few people who I talked to.



No actual pictures are available so I apologize if you can't picture them.

I saw a group of posh-ish public school boys being raucous and juvenile making fun of everybody but in such a nasty way. Teenagers are at an odd stage anyway but this was unbearable.

I wanted to tap the boys on the shoulder and say.

Hey little boy, can you please stop making fun of that hard working family from Newcastle that is on a quick family trip they worked really honest hours for to show their children the London museums?  They may be "common" to you but your supposed alma mater Winston Churchill did say,


"I like common. The older I get I realize that common sense and common courtesy isn't."


Your parents scrimp and save; they give up holidays and a proper pension plan so you can go to a "good school".  Oh yes they do - you don't fool me by wearing an Abercrombie & Fitch shirt which is way too tight for you. That means you either got it from your granny for Christmas a few years ago because your parents won't buy any unnecessary items or you're gay in which case, just come out already because bitchiness does not suit straight men. Although more suitable than apprenticing plumber butt.  

Pull your pants up.  Don't you know that the tradition of lowering your pants showing half your ass is code in prison for - I will be your girl so please don't beat me up? Don't think we could be friends - not because of the age difference but because your future dinner parties would be all four different types of forks and no champagne.

Anyway, I gotta go and talk to that 76 year old lady - the one over there wearing the Barbour jacket and Hermes headscarf scowling at the 17 year old who is petting her dogs.

Excuse me madam, how dooyoodoo?

I hope you are doing well today because normally you are always so upset and doing what I do internally in my head; telling completely random strangers off for their behaviour.

Why are you always complaining? Why are you red with rage?
Isn't the menopause over?    


Why did you bite the head off the girl who said she loved your vintage scarf?  You didn't have to give her daggers with your eyes and say it is not "vintage" and correct her that you bought it in 1974.  She was just making conversation.  

You should enjoy your old age with your hobbies and charities you work for.  Was it the retired donkeys who worked at Romanian circus foundation? Oh and that lawsuit against your nephew must keep you busy.  The one who put your sister in an old age home in Surrey because he thought she was getting senile. Has your lawyer proved  you were right and that she has always been a silly mad cow?  You must miss her.

I do understand your crankiness though.  It must get lonely because your dear old friend Margaret passed away, your other friend Charlotte had to sell her house in Chester Square because her son got made redundant and can't afford the school fees so now she has moved to Gloucestershire to live in her son's house.  I know your new Russian and Kazakh neighbours aren't too friendly. They may always offer to lend you that ghastly goat's milk for your tea and are never at home for you to drop in on but look at the bright side. No one gets burgled anymore.  Yes, London may not be what it used to be, Belgravia even more so.  You should finish your tea quickly because that irritating cashier you sneer at is starting her shift.  Also, I need to get me some coffee.

Hi.  Excuse me?  Oh sorry, yeah sure I'll wait while you finish updating your Facebook status about how much you hate your job and that you will never be able to even drink coffee again. 
Uh huh. No worries.

Oh thank you, hi, can I get a latte and a muffin? 

Also tell me something, I can see that you've got pink and purple stripes in your hair and I commend either you or your hairdresser for a meticulous job.

Not the girl in the cafe but just a guide.

But the thing is you have multi-colored hair, shaved from temple and few inches in on the inner right side, braided on the left and your bangs are striped in purple and red.

What are you trying to prove?

You're not an anarchist because you're bitching about your part time job here and your credit card bills.  I would have respected you more if you just asked me to sign an anti-government, pro-animal petition.  

I have noted your effort but you still look like crap.

Oh yes, I know I look like crap as well but I haven't made an effort.  I just washed my face and didn't even comb my hair and put it in a bun. But if I put that much effort dying, shaving, braiding, side combing, parting, believe me, I wouldn't look amazing but I wouldn't look like crap.  

Well thanks for the coffee.  I'm just going to take a seat over in the corner.

Oh, I've seen you here before.  I don't know why you keep coming back when all you do is scowl at the mothers who can't keep their toddlers under control.  

How many times does it take to be interrupted reading the Telegraph and the Guardian ( Oh, you are a confused creature aren't you. ) by screaming four year olds bumping into your table and spilling your coffee only having to go back to "Pinkie" to order another one?   It's not that the mothers aren't trying you know.  It's just that the children don't understand English very well because they are usually with their Polish nannies.  Those mothers are under a lot of stress - their husband's bonuses aren't what they used to be and the mothers are huddled comparing how to budget on £300,000 a year.  

Anyway, don't think you're so cool and chic sitting all calm, collected, and childless -  well apart from the futile concern you're showing while reading about some third world tragedy and some political fiasco.  

Didn't you get the memo?  Three kids is the new black.


Oh and don't be so precious about your Daunt bookstore tote bag the kids rubbed their snot over.  

Not me. Via - re-wrap tumblr

I mean really, how very Naomi Klein no logo of you dear but I bet your other bag is a Porsche.  

And tell me - you are always wearing your Lulu lemon sportswear - is that because you are always working out trying to lose weight? Although you're not fat considering you are a civilian but for west London - you are rather chunky, my dear. Have you thought perhaps you got porky because you keep wearing stretchy Lulu lemon?  Size six in Lycra doesn't translate into gabardine wool.

Also you do know that it's rude to stare don't you? 
Um, hmmm, is that a mirror?