Now the shackles have been thrown off, nay smashed and cast aside. The word count is an irrelevance that blights me no longer. I was sat pondering what I should write about today and then I recalled Croftisms. I had previously achieved a reputation for doing some rather stupid but nevertheless amusing things that someone coined the phrase Croftisms. I’m not sure I can recall all of them but will endeavour to try. An ex-colleague once catalogued them and I’ll get around to asking her if she can recall any that I’ve forgotten. I think a good place to start though is ‘The first toilet incident’.
This one goes back to my time at university. I’d worked for 7 years before I gave it up and took decided on a change of career, by going to University. I was classed as a mature student during my university years, people who knew me would very much contradict that I would imagine. I joined one of the many societies at the University of Central Lancashire where I attended from 1994 to 1997, however, I digress from the main story. This particular one was the scientific expedition society which for its grand title was mainly a walking and drinking club. There would be trips away to various places each weekend. This particular weekend I found myself with probably fifteen other people in Keswick in the Lake District. If you have never been you have missed an amazing place. We’d done the usual walk, I don’t recall where and we were down by the lake in Keswick Bassenthwaite lake to be precise. As an aside, Bassenthwaite is the only true lake in the Lake District all the others are meres or waters. See, learning things as well here.We were a mixed bunch of students, there was usually several foreign students, as they got to see lots of the country this way. The first incident, oh yes when I make a tit of myself I do it on a large scale. For those of you who haven’t been, there’s a path that follows around the part of the lake nearest Keswick. The paths higher up than the lake and the edge of it made the perfect rest for my camera to take a picture of the gang. Who where stood clustered by the lake. I’d balanced it so to get in the group crowded around each other. This wasn’t the time of mobile phones this was a proper camera era. Wind up films and dodgy timers. I’d got it in position and set the timer. I jumped nimbly off the path down some three or so feet and ran over to the group as quickly as I could muster. Spinning around and with a sweat on. I beamed at the camera with my biggest smile and waited. Nothing happened. I waited some more and then starting to get annoyed, I thought I could influence things by shouting loudly at the camera ” Come on you bastard” just as an old couple walked past behind the camera. Swiveling around to see this mature student going bright red in the face. I stumbled “I didn’t mean you” which was no explanation I realised. I was still going redder as they increased their pace, away from me.
I got ribbed by the group as people broke out of the photo stance. One of my friends Ian went off to the toilet, needing it myself I followed momentarily making sure I wouldn’t walk past the old couple from minutes before. I made it to the toilets and used the urinal. My friend Ian wasn’t to be seen as I washed my hands and as I started to leave I clocked the only cubicle with the door shut and then a malicious thought entered my head. I walked over to the cubicle and preceded to bang over and over on the door shouting as there was no one else in the toilet “Come on you bastard” to my merriment. I left chuckling to myself tears streaming down my face. I looked up to see walking up the path towards the toilets, Ian. He had gone a different way and he hadn’t been to the toilets yet. Needless to say, I didn’t hang about to see who had been in the cubicle, all I know was it wasn’t Ian.
(Words lots and lots more than 250)
The photo is of me at Bassenthwaite Lake when I visited in 2015 on a camping trip.