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Hen Pecked in The Thames

SoulCollage Card ~ Navigating Sharks

I had the pleasure of spending a day in London earlier this week, a fleeting meeting with friends who live far away. We did some of the tourist things including a boat trip on the Thames. I mention the boat trip because it was the location of a stunning example of Odd Behaviour ~ that is behaviour that leaves those who are the target of the behaviour and those who are surrounding witnesses scratching their heads and increasing the risk of forehead wrinklage.

There was a later example of Odd Behaviour that took place in a theatre pales in comparison really - that being the young Londoner who pushed into our row all I'm-at-drama-college-don't-you-know and brandished her tickets at us before demanding to know if we were sitting in the correct seats. When we indicated that we were she wanted to see our tickets. Since our tickets were stashed and hers were out, we suggested we look at hers... imagine the apologies we didn't get as she actually read the seat numbers on her tickets and discovered they didn't correspond at all with the little numbers rubbing up against our bra straps.

So yes, the drama queen of the day was the blonde Glaswegian on the boat. Now don't get me wrong - the fact that she is fae Glesga is only important because she thought I was from somewhere far further flung than doon the ither end o the Forth and Clyde Canal. It's also fun, if a little embarrassing, to dispel the stereotypes about Scottish folk being all shiny and welcoming and Nice. Some Scottish people do in fact display their arsehole selves to the public with vigour.

So, we are enjoying the boatie doon the Thames and we've got a seat upstairs on the open deck. Having been sat on an open top bus for a couple of hours, we feel the need to make A Visit. I go first and then my friend takes her turn. Whilst she is in the powder room, the boat docks at another of the hop-on-hop-off points and a million tourists clamber upstairs to claim a seat. I am oblivious as I enjoy the sunshine with my hand laying across our pile of bags and a coat - all languishing peacefully on a seat.

But as the bodies bob down into seats and the last panic of will-everyone-get-a-seat begins to subside, the claws of one individual come out. At first I don't link her loud and pissed off tone to me, at first I just sort of zone into her face which is screwed up in a grimace and suggesting tourism might not be the pastime best suited to her.

I'm thinking rugby.

She is barking at someone who appears to have been forced to sit in a different row from her and she is beginning to attract the attention of the entire top deck of the boat. In fact the people standing on the banks of the Thames may even be looking at her and listening.

"Check that - she's just sitting there with her bags all over the seat taking up space."

"Come on give her some hassle and explain we don't play that game here."

I realise that she is aiming this and other gems at me, and she is correct - I have two bags and one jacket on the seat next to me. In my mind I can't decide whether I want my friend to take a really long time in the loo, or to re-appear right now. As I field a resounding tut from the blonde advert for Scottish numptyness, I decide on the former.

I allow her to continue with her drama for another couple of outbursts before I decide to put her out of her misery and I lean over to speak to her. It is the first time she looks into my eyes, and the look of shock on her face as I not only speak English but speak it in a Scottish accent is pure dead brilliant.

On explaining the reason for the placement of the bags and jacket, Ms Weegie Personality 2009 purses her lips, gives me another filthy look and turns to face forward. She does keep a vigil out of the corner of her eye to ensure that I really do have a friend who has been off spending a penny.

No apology.

Nothing.

Other than the whispering giggles of several of the also-English-speaking tourists around us.

Why didn't she, or her companion, just ask if the seat was taken?