I was winding my way slowly to work this morning in the usual manner. The usual manner being late. As I was already late, I didn’t see any point in hurrying. So I continued in my usual bimbling fashion with a bit of Johnny Cash on the iPod.
The sun was shining, the weather warm, and the ladies were looking lovely. Well, most of them were. The men were looking at the ladies. Well, most of them were.
As I walked my usual route a couple of people were looking at one of those home-made posters on the fence of someone’s house. You know the type. Lost Dog, Found Underwear, Snapped Jewellery. People knock them up on their PCs and then run off 50 copies to stick round a neighbourhood.
As my bimbling was already not getting me to work very quickly, I decided to check out the poster on the way home. I did worry a bit about the potential puppy in peril on the mean streets of East Newcastle. I mean what if a bigger dog came across it and led it astray into a life of gambling, sex and drugs?!
Then I thought perhaps I should stop listening to Johnny Cash first thing in the morning, and kept on with my journey. 20 metres down the street a student was looking at another poster on the lamppost. It crossed my mind that it was strange to see a student about before 9am. Then it crossed my mind that it was even stranger to see a student pissing themselves laughing at a lamppost before 9am. I strolled onwards.
My nose dragged me on to my next landmark. For that landmark was none other than the ‘Toon Sarnie’, one of the city’s leading providers of bacon butties. Outside the Toon Sarnie was the usual crowd of council workers having some sort of daily briefing.
There was talk of horses, and dog tracks, and hare-chasing. I can only assume they were animal welfare staff. Odd, I thought, that animal welfare staff had trucks full of sand and paving stones. Even more odd than that was that a good gang of them were laughing at a poster stuck to the window of the shop.
My curiosity piqued. Was there a gang of kitten kidnappers at work? Unfortunately, my brain also reminded me that my boss had threatened to rearrange my desk in an unseemly manner if I was late again.
I walked on. I followed my usual route past a well-known motor salesroom and saw one of the posters lying on the floor. I picked it up and carried on walking. I walked past another dozen or so posters on my 10 minute walk before I arrived at my place of work.
Then I looked at the poster and laughed out loud. Really laughed out loud. I didn’t just type LOL into twitter or a text. Actual noise was produced. I suddenly realised that there hadn’t been several different posters appear. There was no spate of watches or wallets being found. No gang of kitten kidnappers were at work.
No, all the posters had been the same as the one in my hands. Someone had launched a campaign. A marketing drive was underway. Somebody was highly motivated and putting in a lot of effort.
I decided there and then that effort of that magnitude deserves applauding and assisting. I could do my bit to give the poster a little extra space with this blog. It deserves to be shared. So here it is:
The moral of the story is never mess with a Geordie woman. You won’t win.