**Diary Entry**
Blimey, have you ever spotted someone your own age and thought, “No chance! I can’t possibly look that ancient… surely not?” 😅
Let me share what happened to a mate of mine—
My name’s Philippa. I was waiting at the bus stop in Manchester, and when I finally boarded, I caught sight of the driver’s ID badge. His full name was printed there—and it *clicked*.
Suddenly, I flashed back to a lanky, dark-haired lad I fancied rotten back in secondary school… goodness, nearly 35 years ago now.
For half a second, I wondered:
“Could that really be him? The boy I used to daydream about?”
But when I got a proper look at the driver, I dismissed it straight away.
He was bald, greying, full of wrinkles, with a bit of a paunch—looked decades older!
Still, curiosity got the better of me.
I leaned in and asked,
—Pardon me, did you happen to attend St. George’s School?
—Aye, I did! he answered, grinning.
—What year did you leave?
—1985… Why d’you ask?
So I just came out with it:
—Well, we were in the same year!
He squinted at me for a long moment…
And then…
THIS BLOKE…
BALD,
GREY,
LINED WITH AGE,
A BIT ROUND IN THE MIDDLE,
WITH WEARY EYES AND A SLOW GAIT…
STARED RIGHT AT ME AND SAID:
—And which teacher were you, miss?
—
😑
Since that ruddy moment, I’ve sworn off judging folks by appearances.
Though I’ll confess… I took extra care picking my outfit the next time I stepped out! 😉
—
Honestly, doesn’t that sting just a bit? 😆
