Wash out

I volunteered for the North Chingford Lifeboats' collecting day. Very bravely I might add. I had no idea that I'd end up so at sea.

It started off a nice Sunny day when my old pal Mrs Tinkler picked me up to start our two hours bucket collection. "Where are the buckets?", she said. Oh. I jumped ship and went inside to look. Granny had left me two buckets, and two strong yellow coats. Later I would be glad they were oil cloth.

After about two hours I'd grown tired of waiting outside the post office practising my coy face. Margaret didn't seem to be having much luck over the road outside the garden centre either. I'd been curious to see who would win. Cute old lady or unusually friendly young woman. Neither it seemed were floating North Chingford's boat.

Whilst I was holding a woman's muzzled dog so she didn't have to tie him up whilst she waited for ten hours in the post office queue, an elderly man grizzled up to me. "I would you know, but I already donate to the animals." "That's fine with me, I can see you would want to go home anyway to rest those sores on your face. Donate from the comfort of your phone."
He was such a tease. He would walk away, give me a sideways wicked look and then stumble back for some more conversation about whether you would be more sad to lose your eyes or your legs. His dentist yesterday had suggested legs and he'd called her a silly bitch. Apparently eyes are much more useful. He pointed out to me that I couldn't be doing this collecting now if I didn't have any eyes. Unfortch it was so cold by now that my encouraging smile had frozen on to my face,

"I bet you like James Bond." "Hmm.." "Not the modern one though." " Sean?" I ask. He nods, "Yeahhh." Knowing look. Twinkle. He knows my type.
"I was at the beach in Hasting by myself. I won't tell you why". Dramatic pause. "And this James Bond sort comes on to the beach. It's rough out there but he tells me he can handle it. I fall asleep. When I wake up I'm..." "Sleepy?", I volunteer." "Yeahhhhh. I don't know where I am for some moments." Tell me about it. "And then I notice this guy's pile of clothes still on the stones next to me. I peer into the sea. There's what looks like a beach ball..."He searches for corrective adjective. "Bouncing?" "Yeahhhhhh. Bouncing on the surface of the sea." "So I call the Lifeboats. And then I get a letter sometime later, because I left my contact details, informing me the man had died."

I'm not sure whether that's a tear rolling down my face or his spitty spray on my cheek.

"I wished I had no eyes that day."