Have you ever spotted someone your own age and thought,
“No chance! I can’t possibly look that ancient… surely?” 😅
Let me share what happened to a mate of mine:
—
My name is Evelyn. 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 sounded familiar.
It suddenly hit me—a tall, charming lad with dark hair, the one I’d fancied something rotten back in secondary school… nearly 35 years ago.
For a brief moment, I wondered:
“Could it really be him? The boy I daydreamed about?”
But when I took a proper look at the driver, I shook off the idea.
He was bald, greying, lined with wrinkles, and had a bit of a paunch—he seemed years older!
Still, curiosity got the better of me.
I said,
—Pardon me, did you happen to attend St. George’s Secondary?
—Aye, I did! he answered with a grin.
—What year did you leave?
—1982… Why’s that?
So I came right out with it:
—Well, we were in the same year!
He squinted at me for a long moment…
And then…
THIS BLOKE…
BALD,
GREY,
WRINKLED,
A BIT ROUND IN THE MIDDLE,
WITH WEARY EYES AND A SLOW AMBLE…
LOOKED AT ME AND ASKED:
—And which teacher were you, miss?
😑
Since that day, I’ve never judged a book by its cover.
Though I’ll confess… I took a bit more care with my outfit the next time I stepped out! 😉
—
Honestly, doesn’t that sting just a tad? 😆
The lesson? Time spares no one, but a little humility—and perhaps a sharp outfit—keeps life interesting.
