Tut Tuto

The other day I found myself in step, yet behind, a young woman.

She had a brilliant haircut that was short, bouncing in the autumn sunlight and playfully skipping around her neck.

Her neck was tanned, soft and …

Not that I was staring!

You see she had a tattoo on her neck; from a distance of a couple of paces it looked like geometric design but as I narrowed the distance – puff, puff – I saw that it was (they were) tiny words arranged like a necklace.

My eyesight is 56.

How close is it reasonable to get, behind a young attractive woman when you are an old codger like me without being arrested when all you are trying to do is read her neck?

And if I whipped out my camera for a photograph?

I have always been a fond admirer of the female form and as I become codger and codgier this admiration has neither dimmed nor abated.

One of the pleasures of codginess is that simple things – like the taste of a fresh summer tomato, the sip of real coffee on a winter frosty day or the soft melt of chocolate in the mouth – take on a whole new meaning.

Perhaps when you are a teenager you just don’t have time to savour the moment.

Everything is a rush.

Or you are asleep.

Anyways, I didn’t get a photo; I sensed it was the wrong thing to do.

Yes, I did think about skipping ahead, setting the zoom lens and waiting for her to pass, but yes I did think of arrest, prison and public humiliation.

Consequently I will never get to take a bikini photo like this.

Krissie did.