Open Letter

Dear Crazy Person Talking To Yourself In The Street,

As I am walking home from the shops I can see you in the distance, gesticulating and talking. First I think you are having a conversation with someone I cannot see, but as I get closer I can see there is no one there.
I cannot hear what you are saying, but I feel happy in the knowledge that you are there. I keep walking and ask myself whether I should smile at you as I walk past. You look quite clean and harmless, so I decide I could even offer a 'Goodafternoon'.
As I get yet closer, I can see you have a little cart with green binbags, and actually look a bit too clean to be a crazy person. But, we live in hope, and crazy does not mean homeless (or vice versa), after all.
Then I get to the opposite side of the street where you stand, and it turns out you are an official sanitary worker of some sort. I feel happy in the knowledge that Reading Borough Council is not a discriminating employer.
But as I cross the street I see you are wearing a hands-free thingie in your ear, and as I walk past, you take your phone out of your pocket.
Technology ruins everything.

Bye bye,

Q. M.