Inchcock’s Third Escape from the Lock-Down, to Nottingham. Photographically recorded!

Inchcock’s Third brave but stupid, Escape from the Lock-Down

We understand, that the Nottingham City Council Security, the Police, and the newly-formed Boy Scouts Woggle-Anti-Lock-Down-Escapers-Retrieval-Team are after him, again!

He arrived at Upper Parliament Street, where he spied and ogled some Nottinghamian ladies, on his way into the Poundland Store, had a Dizzy Dennis visit, and came out with more unwanted goods, such as Zoflora disinfectants, Carnation milk pots, Cooked beef misshapes, and 3×8 bags of his destroyers-to his diet, Frazzles!

He paid the lady, who helped him when he had his funny-turn and dropped his money on the floor, thanked her and made his way to the Bargain Shop on Milton Street. Observing a pair of fine legs-displaying young Nottinghamiam lady, crossing the road against the cross-walk lights. He forgave her we understand.

He patiently waited for some fine bottom-shaped, Nottinghamian Mothers to get there ankle-snappers locked securely in the pushchair, then entered the store. Hoping they would have some of the Pakistani made potato cakes, and lemon air-spray in stock. They didn’t. But the old fool felt so guilty at the thought of not buying anything, he bought a pack of four-mini oven trays, for £1.99, and left to walk through Trinity Square, up the incline, so as to take some pictures of Trinity Walk, but got yet another visit from Dizzy Dennis, and hobbled down to Upper Parliament Street.

The first of the Pavement Cyclist he saw on the short hobble, all-but ran into him. He claims to have called out, “You silly boy!” and waved at him.

Investigations are underway to find out what he actually shouted!

He limped down Queen Street to Nottingham’s Slab Square.

His near-miss at being run into again by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, (he says) drew a slightly more forceful response. The old grumpy claimed he said “Tsk! You rascal!”

He walked across to South Parade, where he took a shot of the side of the Council House. Not many folks there, so he turned back and took one of the Square.

He hobbled down Arcade Walk. Amused at how the Nottinghamians were totally ignoring the signs written on the paving stone, to keep to the left.

St Peter’s Square; and the silence was overbearing.

He says he felt like a disaster was about to take place, as he avoided another of the many Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists.

He told our reporter, that he wanted after over a year and a half, to go into the M&S Foodhall, to get some treats from there ready-made meal section for himself. Shame that. He could not gain entry with his walker to any door but one, all the others have stairs or step that needed tackling to get in. So, after a long painful hobble around he found the doorway, and for his bother, got walked into by two rather large ladies coming out. He could not tell what they said to him, but the words were accompanied by some well-used, superior class sneers and curled lips.

Then he had to walk for what seemed miles, to get to the lift down to the Food Hall. Luckily, there was no one wanting to use the lift, which pleased him, but felt odd, the place used to be very busy all of the day? When he got down, it was a very sad sight! The Coronavirus has had a shocking impact, for M&S. Fridges were curtained off and not in use at all! The usually well-stocked shelves looked bare, by comparison now. 

The fool paid £2 for a tiny bag of small potatoes, £1 for a mini tray of basic mushrooms, £2 for small-box of Frites, and £2.50 for four minuscule potato-rostis!

He got to the checkout and had another Dennis Dizzy visit, and Stuttering Stephanie hit him. He claims he was overcharged, but who knows, in the state he was in, owt could have happened.

The poor old senile nincompoop struggled to get up the lift and out of the one door he could use, and onto Lister Gate again.

Back wearily up Exchange Walk, with his famously-reliable EQ, telling him that hassle of some sort was on the way. Which didn’t take long to arrive!

He took a zoomed-in shot with his little Canon camera towards King Street, as a Pavement Cyclist zoomed by his, and he felt the draught the speeding idiot made!

Another Pavement Cyclist came into view.

Then another one, too!

This one came close to hitting the old codge, he came from the rear. Inchcok refused to tell me what actual words he shouted at this Pavement Cyclist.

This particular Pavement Cyclist gave our Nottinghamian pensioner a few looks!

The old scrote carried on his way up to the bus stop, and a final Pavement Cyclist belted by him. He claims he was tired, pee’d off and Dizzy Dennis was visiting him again at this stage. There might be something in what he says cause he can’t remember the bus ride back to Winwood Court!

He says he didn’t see a single policeman all day!

The can recall getting off of the bus though, he cracked his ulcered ankle on the trolley-walkers right-hand back wheel!

This was written and potomagraphed, under great stress. Just thought I’d mention it!

4 thoughts on “Inchcock’s Third Escape from the Lock-Down, to Nottingham. Photographically recorded!

  1. Excellent reporting by the sleuth reporter Señor Inchcock. Seems to be lots of people out and about on the streets of Nottingham including cyclists trying to run down out intrepid report. Excellent set of photos. Brings back nice memories of the times gone by when you were out on your daily excursions around town.

    • I thank you, Sir!
      I don’t half miss them, Tim!
      I realise I’m not up to going out so often nowadays, but would hope to go at least once a week.
      All the flipping medical appointments and that Coronavirus thingamajig, Tsk!
      Haha!

  2. I rather liked the voice of your narrator, mate. You’ve chosen someone who seems to be reading your mind and your reactions at each moment — particularly the botherations of the pavement-driving generationals. The penultimate photograph captures a furtive glance from a pavement cyclist, the unknown photographer snapped the picture at the exact instant of potentially impending doom — to cycle away or to veer his machine into our hero’s path.

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