I’m a noise polluter and a caveman, or so I have been told.
That’s the message from the better half whom I have survived quite well with during the long weeks in lockdown. I wasn’t too sure we’d get through cooped up for so long.
I’m called a noise polluter because I apparently talk too loud, particularly when I am on the phone. Given I am working from home I'm on the phone a lot.
A sharp “keep your voice down” has been fairly regular.
And a caveman?
I suppose in years gone by I’ve been a bit primitive at times, nothing unusual in that for a young fella but those days are long gone.
I’m a caveman because I’ve only had the razor out a couple of times over the past month, and I’ve got a bit furry.
I thought the furry, prickly look might not have been an issue inside the bubble, but I was wrong.
"When are you going to have a shave?". "Tomorrow" The following day: "When are you going to have a shave?". "Tomorrow". You get the the jist.
But maybe it’s just that look on me.
So I experimented.
“I hear Chalkie has grown a couple of big mutton chops during the lockdown,” I ventured.
“That would look interesting,” came the reply.
“And I also hear Big Denis is now sporting a goaty beard,” I said.
“That might suit him,” she laughed.
Pushing it, I added “And Macca’s gone the ZZ Top way.” “What’s a ZZ Top?,” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured.
Them the coup de grace.
We were out walking and approaching us was a figure I thought I knew, but there was something not quite the same.
As he got closer, I realised it was Bevan, who was sporting a lockdown beard.
“I didn’t recognise ya,” I laughed as we got closer.
We got talking and I introduced him to the better half.
“He seems a nice guy,” my better half later said.
“Yeah, he’s a really good guy," I replied, adding quietly: “He looks like a bit of a caveman, though.”
No response.
I'll remember to be a bit louder next time.
