Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them. With Major Major it had been all three.

Theme Thursday again, and we're talking TRAFFIC. This set of signs down near the waterfront never ceases to amuse me. Some might speculate that the two people in the yellow sign are merely attempting to inform oncoming TRAFFIC to be aware of the likelihood of people crossing the road.

However, I rather think of them fleeing (yes fleeing) the aforementioned toilets. Look at the barely controlled aggression the the larger, much older, male of the pair. The dominance of his action is almost palpable. Oh yes, he's a wrong 'un all right.

Now look at her. The cowering subservience. The timidity of a girl who has been kicked in the guts by life, only to meet a fellow who helps her out, tells her that he
loves her, only to kick her in the guts again.

What happened in those toilets is what I want to know. What crack the fine veneer of the older suitor's façade? What prompted this scene?

An unwanted child?

A run in with the law?

A stray, seemingly innocuous text message from a friend read by a jealous and unscrupulous lover?

A complaint made against a physical education teacher from a parent (a bad parent, to be sure, but a parent nonetheless) about an improper relationship?

I don't know, I really don't. What I do know that something fishy is going on. And it stinks.

It stinks!