Hello, I met you on the train…

Hello, I met you on the train the other day,
I called out, walking round a local lake.
He walked past and on.
I turned.
Hello, louder, we met on the train.

He stopped and looked round.
Slightly confused.
Smiled.
Yes, we did.

How are you? ….
Fine, etc…
Well, see you again sometime.

My wife, cringing…
Have you totally lost all your inhibitions?

But we had a conversation on the train. He’s a really nice guy.

Yes, I suppose I have lost some, but not all.

In fact, on a good day I say hello to lots of people I meet on my journeys.
Mostly they smile warmly, pass the time of day, and we get on with our travel.
One or two probably wonder what sort of a nut I am.

I haven’t become that passenger you really don’t want to sit opposite.
Can’t stop rattling on.
All the way, an hour or more…
I just like to say hello, smile about an overheard remark or silly announcement, or will I make my connection.
I like to belong to a community.
To make contact.

And, yes, I have lost some inhibition,
That voice that stops you saying what comes into your head,
The double entendre about the actress and the vicar,
The bad joke that for some reason I find funny but most don’t,
Saying hello to someone you met on a train and who is in a different world…
Aren’t we all in different worlds?

In meetings I sometimes wonder what would happen…
If I said what was in my head.
Perhaps one day soon I will.
It’ll just pop out.

It used to pop out quite a lot before I found…ta daa…
Donepezil.
I found it hilarious when I wet my trousers soon after a prostate op,
So I let people know at a dinner party.
Oh how I wish I could turn that clock back.

I made the “double” aside a few times in board meetings at a charity…
Red faces all round.
Oops.
Inappropriate.

I’m told I’m better now, by people I trust.
I am just more aware of good manners.
Of not assuming my humour is automatically shared by others.
Turning on the brain filter.

Some people with dementia lose that filter.
I’m probably one of them.
I suppose that part of the brain must just switch off,
Or become impossible to access.
So we say whatever comes into our heads.

So forgive give me and at least smile if I say
As the actress said to the vicar
At the wrong moment.

One thought on “Hello, I met you on the train…

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