Confessions of a Grumpy Old Git...

Since I only just realised it recently, seems like right now might be the time for a bit of confession. So here goes. Dear reader, sorry to have to break it to you, but I am a terrible human being. In short, I’m a grumpy old git in the making, Sigh. Luckily, I’m not the only one. There are quite a few of us out here in the real world. But still, was a bit of a shock to discover it was happening … TO ME!

Found this out when a couple of university student aged young ladies called at my house the other afternoon, trying to sell stuff door to door. I am not proud of what happened next. It’s not a pretty story, but feel like I should tell it anyway. To try and make amends by bringing awareness to the issue of grumpiness and how easy it is to acquire in old age. (Though, in fairness. Don’t think of myself as old. Merely - mature.)

It all began, as these things often do, in the morning. The sun shone, the sky was blue and birds were singing in the bushes. In short, all was well with the world. Or rather, it WAS well, until I started on the list of chores for the day. You see, that morning, I was up to my elbows in what my kids like to call, Life Admin. Boring stuff that has to be done, but which you would rather not be doing. 

Biggest pain in the bawbag was dealing with our broadband provider. Won’t bore you with details, but we have a problem and they were supposed to sort it out months ago. But they hadn’t. So I had to nag them into action. Trouble is, turned out the only way to talk to a real human being, was to talk to the sales department. Of course, they weren’t much interested in sorting out problems, they just wanted to sell me more of the stuff that wasn’t working properly. So the conversation was a lot less than constructive.

After a bit of this back and forth, my poor old man brain box was just about ready to explode, so I did the only decent thing possible at a time like that. Slammed the phone down and stomped off to the garden to have a lie down. Luckily, some time out in the sunshine worked wonders on the old blood pressure. Before too long the swing seat was swinging, the sun shade was shading, Rufus the dog and I were snoozing away like a pair of snoozing sun bunnies. In short, all was well with the world. Again. 

And then the doorbell rang. Sigh. Rufus woke up, the barking began and all thoughts of rest went out the metaphorical catflap. So we stomped back into the house together and I opened the front door. Only to find the two student aged young ladies mentioned above. Which is when things went pear shaped.

You see, they were chuggers. Very smartly dressed ones, admittedly. Looked as if they were on their way to church. Either way, expect you know their game. Their mission is to try and sweet talk you into signing up for a monthly payment to whatever charity they’re working for. You sign up, the youngsters get some of the money and the rest goes to the charity. Must admit, it’s not for me. But as long as everyone knows the score, reckon there’s no harm in it. Better than them wasting their time playing video games, I suppose. 

Trouble is, after the morning I had spent with that telephone sales department, I was not in the mood for sales patter. Of any sort. To make matters worse, since these were a pair of youngsters, obviously just starting out, their sales patter was worse than bad. It was dreadful. 

Can’t remember exactly which charity they were working for, but I do remember they started off by grumbling about the weather. Which, since the sun was still shining fit to burst, and I had been enjoying it up until they rang the doorbell, was not a good place to begin. Or maybe that was just me. Either way, my grump index began to rise…

After that they started talking about climate change and how it would make the tooth fairy sad, or similar. Can’t remember the exact details. Either way, at this point, something inside me snapped. The grump gasket blew. So I told them they were talking nonsense, making me waste good snoozing time. I then slammed the door in their faces and stomped off back to the garden. 

Trouble is, I couldn’t get back to happiness on the swing seat. Felt like I had been rude to a couple of young adults who might still actually believe in the tooth fairy, for all I knew. Sigh. So I went back to try and find them, to apologise for my snappy grumpishness. But they had gone. Disappeared.

My only hope now is someone out there, reading this, will one day open their door to pair of sweet and sincere chuggers. Young ladies dressed up as if they were on their way to church. And if that happens, and if it’s YOU opening the door, dear reader, please can you tell them I am very sorry for being such a mean grumpy old git bag. And I meant no offence to the tooth fairy.

Until next time, all the best

Stan