Random reminder

Press, 16 August 1984, Page 29

Random reminder

“RED HANDED” Because of fuel restrictions, cycling, of necessity, was the main mode of private transport immediately after the war. Shortly after mid-day people could be seen busily pedalling around the city to do their lunch-hour messages. A certain Senior Citizen recalls ruefully one particular errand when his speed and enthusiasm were to no avail. He had hurtled into town to change a half-pint tin of red paint because it was not a perfect colour match. Unfortunately, due to a staff shortage, the paint shop had closed for lunch. Thrusting the tin of paint under the loose flap of his old pack, he cycled briskly along Cashel Street to a camping and sports goods shop. When he enquired from the courteous staff regarding some material, he was directed to another department upstairs. Glancing at his watch he realised that he had not yet eaten, so took a leap at the stairs aiming to take them two at a time. This was sufficient to allow the paint tin to shoot from under the loose pack flap. The hustler was quite unaware that this rear projectile was in flight until he heard a hollow “zonk” as it hit the polished floor. He froze in mid-flight and his intuition told him to look behind. His worst fears the press top- lid had popped off and was rapidly spreading across the floor towards the red polka-dotted coun-

ter front A staff member grabbed a copy of the “Press” even before he had completed the crossword. It was one of those rare occasions when all concerned were glad that there were no other customers — particularly if they were like the leaping madman who was at that moment on his hands and mumbling apologies. Humble Pie is a poor substitute for sandwiches. A resourceful employee had produced some cleaning rags and some turpentine to remove the scarlet puddle from the highly-polished surface. He was told — “Not to worry — accidents can happen — further delay could make him late for work, etc.” Something seemed to tell him that he was superfluous, so he departed in his red-spotted shoes, red hands and even redder face. Over the remaining five minutes back at the lunch room he unhappily related the previous hour’s activities and was indignant when everybody was laughing but him. A few days later he returned to the firm and was greeted by one of the more genial of his co-moppees. He again expressed his apologies and thanks for the way the staff had taken over to enable him to get back to work in time. The cyclist had mixed feelings when he heard they were anxious to get him out of the shop before he grabbed one of the more expensive sleeping bags on display to speed up the mopping.