I have been living here for nearly two years now, and have finally become 100 per cent countrybumpkin! How do I know? Have I been given the keys to the village? Do the locals in the pub talk to me instead of glaring in a meanacing way whenever I order a drink? No. It is because I have finally become as gullable and easily led as every other non city person in the world!
Now that may sound a bit harsh, but it comes from a Cockney Londoner. Or at least I was a few years ago! You see, a Cockney Londoner never gets caught out by anyone. Ever. They can see a scam a million miles away. Its inborn. We are the type that have never scratched off the Sunday Supplement card which always has three bells on and 'guarantees a major prize' because its a scam. We never telephone the 'Answer this simple question to win an all expenses paid holiday', because its a trick to get you to part with your pennys! In fact we only trust one person in the whole world, our mum, because she knows all. Everyone else tells porkies!
So you see what has happened to me. I 'believed' someone. I handed over my cash like a lamb to the slaughter and merrily came home to show off my prize to Hubby. Then when the product worked as well as dead stand up comedian, it slowly dawned on me that I had been duped. I knew I was never going to get the 'Magic Bean Effect', and I had finally lost all connection to my beautiful City.
The evil person who 'saw me coming' worked in Boots The Chemist. That was my first mistake, going into Boots. Everybody knows they only sell stuff that doesn't work to boost their profits. Always use an independant Chemist for illnesses! My mum told me that.
I happened to mention her hair was exactly the colour I wanted. Second mistake. Chatting to strangers. A terrible sign of weakness and/or Altzheimers Disease, (Which I'm sure I'm coming down with!)
She had me from there on in, telling me exactly what potion I should buy as I would immediatly come out of the shower with silver grey hair just by using an extremly expensive shampoo that Boots, (surprisingly), sold. All sweetness and smiles like the witch with the apple from Snow White.
And thats where I became an ex-cockney. So pleased at how I would look before the night was out. So happy that after fifteen years of trying, I would finally get the colour hair I've always wanted. So damn angry when my hair was still the same colour as I'd dyed it the week before! Such a fool, standing in front of Hubby, shouting how it didnt work, (but using the most horrendous language my mother would not have been proud of)!
So I have settled here now and become 'one of them'. Slightly odd, with a tendency to make home made cakes willy nilly. A penchant for chatting to anyone who wanders closeby, and terrible urges to spend what little money I have on complete crap! Perhaps Im not an ex-cockney after all, maybe its just my age!