Not seeing Karen

Something I’m seeing more and more of, even here in Sweden, is discarded face masks. Like cigarette butts, they are dotted about the place, carelessly dropped and ignored by once concerned wearers. Which is what gets me most of all. If someone wears a face mask in a country where it’s not compulsory they must be doing it because they believe it works in which case, why litter with it? Or are they, in fact, not wearing it to protect others at all because they don’t care? That seems more like it.

The mask below, discovered by the bus stop this morning, even includes a few cigarette butts as well. Just as a sort of careless crap bonus.

Not that seeing someone else’s garbage was the most surprising thing today. I think that honour goes to seeing Karen at Tyresö Centrum while I was waiting for the bus back home. At least, I thought I did.

That sudden feeling of unexpectedly seeing someone you know went through me, and I was even on the verge of waving. Then the impossibility of the situation took hold and kept my arm at my side.

I did manage to take a long distance, blurry, out of focus, rubbish photo though. And it proves how much it wasn’t Karen.

Seeing her up close, she didn’t resemble Karen in the slightest and I realised it was another one of those cases where the mind fills in the blanks that distance creates. A shame. Apart from the obvious pleasure of seeing Karen, it would also have been a story I could tell alongside the one about unexpectedly running into Pete Rankin at Elephant and Castle. But it was not to be.

Of course, being a Wednesday meant I was in Tyresö for the mid-week shop. This meant an Espresso House treat.

The barista filled me in on her wonderful Valentine’s weekend with her ‘perfect’ boyfriend. She’d been looking forward to having breakfast at the hotel but was surprised by a special Valentine’s breakfast in their room.

Then there were the snails she ordered at a French restaurant. Having never had them before, she bravely tried them but, afterwards, confessed she won’t be trying them again. Her boyfriend was more enthusiastic saying that, while he wouldn’t want them for every meal, he’d certainly have them again.

It reminded me of Sam and the video of him trying to keep a snail down while his family laughed at him. Such fun. Though not for Sam.

Somewhat better than snails was the piece of cake I had at Norrby’s. I was going to have the usual cardamom bun but Mirinda pointed out the Bounty cake. It was like a big Bounty bar but in cake form. And it was magnificent.

I’m not saying I’d have one every meal, but I’d gladly have another piece, another time.

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