"If Only We Were Amongst Friends...or Sane Persons"

Making new friends can be difficult at any age.  Have joined various arty or writing sessions over the years in the hope of meeting like-minded people.  Instead, found the solace I craved in coming home to peace and quiet.  Fifties; classes were populated by bickering menopausal women, and we all hated being there, waiting our turn, and each other.  Sixties; joined a walking group for retired people.  Fresh air and an easy pace.  However, there was one woman who would attach herself during the walk and never shut up, passing on doom and gloom anxiety.  The third outing, I said ‘Would you let them know I’ve left please’ – and never went back.  Why didn’t I speak up?  Because I didn’t want to be ‘the talk of the town’ newbie who asked one of the regular walkers if they didn’t know any happy stories.  Or would they kindly stop treating me like a big giant ear.  Or, what I really felt like saying, ‘You’re story has touched my heart, now fuck off and annoy somebody else’.  There was also a woman in her 70’s who’d had a mastectomy, which is a lot to go through for anybody, I know.  But she would flaunt this by going braless in a tee-shirt.  There was a sort of smirking-spite in her expression of being thrilled at shocking or repelling others.  Once, in the RA in London there was a woman who was obviously mid-treatment; in headscarf and nasal feed-tube.  She was reclining in the crowded exhibition, nobody near her.  That same false power look of smirky-spite.  I sat beside her; which evidently spoiled her fun.  She got up and moved through the crowd, who were looking at the paintings, not her.  Perhaps it’s projecting fear.  For sure, seems a fucked up way to deal.

‘‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ Sharman J (Director). 1975, Fox-Rank Distributers UK.  “If only we were amongst friends, or sane persons”.  (1:10:30)