car park conversations

I was sitting in my car reading my paper at lunchtime today when an old woman came to the driver’s window. I didn’t notice her there – like I said I was reading the paper. Well, when I said I didn’t notice her, that was until she made me spit water all over my shirt by banging on my window.

And why did she do this? Did she know me? Did she have an emergency? Had I run over her little dog? No:

“Aren’t you going then?”
“Going?”
“To see THEM.”
“Them?”
“Charles and her”
“Charles and her?”
“Prince Charles and Camilla.”
“Oh – Charles and Camilla.”
“They’re at the Town Hall.”
“The Town Hall?”
“Yes. Well, the new Town Hall. Not the old one.”
“There’s an old Town Hall?”
“What? … Anyway. They’re there. Aren’t you going to go see them?”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so.”
[shocked silence]
“Right. Um… why not?”
[pensive silence]
“Um… I have to work?
[like-that’s-an excuse silence]
“Right.”

And off she trotted to her car so she could visit the heir to the throne, pausing only to throw another disbelieving glance in my direction.

I’ve been thinking about that encounter and trying to work out who was the more taken aback – Me, that she was excited to the point of initiating conversations with newspaper reading strangers in car parks – or her, that I showed such disregard for my future monarch.

I’m no put-them-all-against-the-wall republican. I have a healthy apathy towards the royals. If they were driving past I may stop what I was doing and watch. If they were to visit my place of work I’m sure I would bow and say something appropriate. They seem like pleasant enough people – I just don’t feel a great deal of enthusiasm when I hear them mentioned, and I find it odd that other people do. I guess I’m just not much of a patriot.