Good Lord! What is that old fool doing. He is out and about with only a tatty old dressing gown and a pair of mouldy slippers on his feet. Thank goodness - he appears to have his pjs on, under that disgusting robe. People like that should be looked after. It is disgusting how families neglect their old folk. I would hate to grow old like that - put me in a home - NO - put me down first. I would rather have euthanasia than be reduced to a quivering, brainless, incontinent wreck. Thank goodness I am still young and attractive. Well, youngish. Well ... OK, I am pushing 70. But I still have all my marbles. The fact I am out here, hanging out my washing in my nightie, is because I am hanging out the washing before breakfast.
Hang on. Where are my keys. Oh darn it. The door is latched behind me. Where are the spare set. I'll just peek under the old door mat - NO - no keys. I'm locked out!
Why the hell is he talking to me? That old demented codger.
"Excuse me. Wonder if you need help?"
Not from you. You old wreck.
"I'm locked out too. I've just called the locksmith. I'll send him round to you when he's finished here, if you like."
Oh. Oh... Well, maybe he's not such an old codger after all. Quite a nice face.