#Facepalm

The title of this post, Lord and Lady Uninitiated, is what we commonly refer to in the trade as a "hashtag". It's a Twitter thing. 

Nevermind.

Anyway, I am fast becoming fond of this gesticulation as it best represents moments in my inner-monologue that seem to become more the norm than the exception. 

Today, I did what I do in the morning (a 5.55am rise, so quite late today), and downloaded the Indy to my device of choice that I may verily read as the progeny consider the merits of The Adventures of Piggly Winks. It took me four minutes to thrice #facepalm.

1. You have a police-person, and he is given a job of policing. Nothing unusual in that, but what I haven't yet told you is that Officer Dibble was in fact an under-cover officer, and it would appear that he took that brief to the Nth degree. He married one of the people he was supposed to be spying on. Now that, ladies and gentleman, is really going above and beyond the call of duty. One can only imagine how the conversation went: "When I look into your eyes, my heart melts. Your skin is like softest satin. My love, I have a fire burning in me that I can no longer quench; but my love, before you can be mine I must confess that I have been spying on your for months 'cos me and the boys want to nick you and yer crew". Who said romance was dead? 

2. You have a police-person, and he is given the job of policing. Nothing unusual in that, but what I haven't told you is that Officer Dibble was in fact a close-protection officer (what? Oh, 'bodyguard') to none less than the Shadow Chancellor. Look after Mr Johnson, said his job description; take the bullet, make the tea, move unruly hecklers to one side, wear a natty earpiece - those kind of things. Well it appears that he took "looking after" to a whole new plain. Allegedly, he was looking after the wife of said politician in the absolute biblical sense of the matter. One can only imagine how the conversation went: "When I look into your eyes, my heart melts. Your skin is like softest satin. My love, I have a fire burning in me that I can no longer quench; but my love it is your wife whom I must pursue, for she have prettier legs than you, innit." Who said romance was dead? 

3. You have a Mayor of a town, tootling to work in his motor car. He drives past the school near his home, waving to the children who have gathered at the roadside to regard his passing journey. Such a tight community, such loyal devotion to their civic leader. Then they tell him he was speeding and he got vexed. The children were in fact engaging with the subject of road-safety by speed checking passing drivers. 33mph (that's old money, you in America reading this) in a 30mph zone. What a numpty! However, his humility is the worthy recipient of my last #facepalm today. No, he didn't apologise. No, he didn't hold up his hands to the crime. No, the man complained that kids should be in class, not learning lessons by the side of the road. If ever there an example of a red-faced sore loser, there you have it, right there.