ukulele me

Wobbling up the road from the station on the way back from an evening in a cellar bar I focus on a couple in front of me. They are arm in arm, one with a guitar case slung over his shoulder and the other swinging what looks suspiciously like an ukulele bag. I am forced by an unseen hand to speed up a little until I am level with them. I eye up the case trying to decide if it contains what I think it does. The thought of someone else in my town playing the uke is very exciting. My staring shows, and I meet the eyes of the bloke with the guitar.

Dare I?

After two bottles of wine? Of course dare I. 'Is that a ukulele?' I ask
'No, it's a t------,'(I can't remember, Its all gone a bit hazy). 'It's a sort of small guitar' says the lady carrying it.
'Cool!' I say; the mistress of intelligent conversation.
'I don't play it,' says the woman, 'I'm carrying it for Jim.'

I suddenly remember that I am in London and should therefore not be having this conversation. Instead of asking the them to tell me more and finding out where he's been playing, asking them round for tea sometime and making them my new best friends like I really ought to, I smile, speed up, and continue wobbling up the road in front of them. I am a bit rubbish.



Thanks to Unreliable Witness both for the tune and the means to post it! :)