Watch me struggle why don't you?

What kind of man can watch a small woman struggling with heavy shopping bags walk past his side and not think about offering to help her?

The builders on my road, that's who!

The hob-nailed booted sons of b*tches didn't move a muscle to help a woman in need.

What the devil has happened to chivalry? Is it really dead? Well yes, on my road it happens to be as dead as a turkey at Christmas.

These hefty men have been working on the house next door for ages. I hear from the Telecoms engineer who visited my house after attending to the house next door, who happens to turn into a gossip after a cup of tea and buttered toast with jam, that the neighbours next door are creating a cinema and adult playroom in the basement and the workmen are going to be a permanent fixture until next February. To date, they've been digging and drilling and moving and shaking at no. 19 forever.

They say hello. They offer a good morning and they even wave goodbye when they're about to leave but did anyone of them offer to help me with my shopping? Well the answer is a big fat NO!

What's a girl supposed to do to get help? Hitch up her skirt? Smear on bright red lipstick? Smash her cleavage together and un-button her blouse? Show the top of her hold-ups? Because if that's the case, then I'm never going to get the help I deserve!

All I wanted was for one of those hefty men, and there were four of them standing around doing nothing, I just wanted one of those construction workers to say "hi Miss, do you need help carrying your shopping?" But oh no. Instead, they just looked at me and watched me struggle like they didn't give a damn.

Well I'm disappointed. I wish more men would be like my dad. He's the type of man who opens doors, pulls out chairs, carries heavy bags and offers to help.

I'm so not made for this modern world of every man for him/herself!

Anyone for Shoes?

The August Mayfield Diaries