That Bloke by Susan Price
This blog is going to be a bit off-topic. I'm in the middle of planning for several school visits and my mind is not so much like Sandra's fluttery brown things as like an over-excited and untrained collie racing round a field, barking furiously and scaring away the sheep it's trying to round up. In an attempt to exhaust the over-excited collie, I went to the gym on Tuesday morning. And That Bloke was there again. The one that makes my jaw drop. Before you start conjuring up some tall, blond, muscled Adonis, stop and think again. He is nothing whatsoever like that. He is Asian and probably no taller than me, though he's certainly much slimmer. He doesn't strut around in a skin tight vest with all his tattoos on oiled display. Instead, he dresses anonymously, in a loose t-shirt and knee-length baggy shorts. The most ' don't -look-at-me' gear you could imagi...