Sarah Standing

Standing Room | 11 July 2009

I’ve been reprimanded three times this week for ‘inappropriate behaviour’ — issued with a trio of verbal ‘warnings’.

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‘Don’t get out,’ she instructed bossily.

‘What do you think you’re doing? Stay put,’ said her husband. ‘I’m telling you, you need to straighten up.’

Defiantly I got out.

‘I think it’s fine,’ I said, before inexplicably thanking them for their interference — what it is about being British that often compels us to fight hostility with politeness?

‘I’m glad you think it’s fine,’ the man smirked before pulling out his mobile and taking a photograph. ‘Because I now have evidence to the contrary.’

‘Are you a traffic warden?’ I asked. He didn’t reply. He just roared with laughter, grabbed his wife’s hand and swaggered off towards the pub — presumably glad his ‘good deed’ for the day had been accomplished.

Shopping at Waitrose with my husband, a man came and tapped Johnnie on the shoulder.

‘Is that your wife over there?’ he enquired. ‘Because I’ve often seen her at the Pimlico market and I read her column every week. Tell her from me she shouldn’t chew gum, it’s not attractive.’ When Johnnie (unwisely) repeated this conversation to me, I saw red.

‘Who is this jerk?’ I snapped. ‘And why on earth didn’t you tell him to mind his own business?’

‘I thought you knew him,’ mumbled Johnnie, who also happens to loathe public displays of gum-chewing.

‘And? Even if I did know him, why would you allow a total stranger to tick me off?’ Poor Johnnie had no answer and we both continued down the aisle in silence, furiously hurling Häagen-Dazs and Dentyne into our trolley.

On Saturday I worked in my shop. The weather was oppressively hot and we were depressingly devoid of customers. I’d just dragged a deckchair outside on to the pavement when a passer-by appeared, stood in front of me and sighed ominously. ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’ she tutted disapprovingly.

I found myself using a childhood phrase I thought I’d long-forgotten.

‘MYOB!’ I snarled. I’d suddenly had enough.

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