The other day I took my beloved lady (my wife, in case you had other imaginative ideas!) into a big hospital for a post-operative consultation with her surgeon.
Now, normally, big hospitals are pretty cheerless places where everyone either looks like they are dying or are presiding over the dying. Not too much room for happiness and joy there!
Well, this place was markedly different and I put it down to the amazing efforts of one solitary man!
“Who?” I hear you ask.
The barista at the coffee shop, almost plumb in the centre of the foyer where everybody coming, going or merely lingering had to traverse.
He was as happy as a sandboy and showed it; he just loved looking after people and he radiated it. Nothing and nobody was a problem, life was fun and meant to be enjoyed.
He, and what he gave out, was the happiness drug, the best damn drug in the hospital!
We need lots more sandboys!
P.S. In case you don’t know the meaning of sandboy and why they are happy, here’s what the Guardian.co.uk says about them “Publicans used to spread sand on bar floors to catch slops, spills, spit and so on. The sand was delivered by sandboys. Hauling sand was thirsty work, and they were part paid in drink. This kept them merry. And, anyway, happy was the man who got free booze.”
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Loved your comment re Changed Parking Conditions. It’s like some Detour Ahead Signs and then no further signs.
Yep, another frustration Victor… and what about “Men on Road” or “Roadworks” when nobody is working!