Some people bury their faces in their smartphones all day. Not me. I’ve had the same old Nokia phone for years and years and have never bothered with social media and the like. I don’t see the point of it; I’ve got enough strangers in my life as it is. So if I’m out and about I keep my head up and my mind stimulated by the sights and sounds around me: neighbours arguing (I might imagine it’s over the need to replace a washing machine filter); a broken window (I imagine it was smashed by a child manoeuvring an adult ladder); rust penetrating the wheel arches of a long-abandoned car (I imagine the car has been dumped by a wine merchant who went nuts); dogs sharing an interest in a spillage (I imagine the dogs are called Zak Briefcase and Lengthy Parsnips).

If these sights and thoughts aren’t stimulating enough, I let my imagination kick into a higher setting.

For example, when I’m walking to work, I have to wind through the various access roads that meander between the blocks of low- and high-rise flats on my estate. Just before the exit from the estate is a grassed play area about the size of half a football pitch. (There used to be a see-saw, but I heard it was removed because some kid smashed up her face really badly on it. You don’t often see any small kids using the area, probably on account of the cumulative dog dirting. Come to think of it, you don’t see many young kids anywhere on the estate. They must be there, but you just don’t see them.)

Often as I pass by this grassy patch a squirrel will stop in its tracks and stand on its back legs to have a good nose at me.

‘Alright, mate,’ I whisper to myself. ‘Your tail is looking well plump and very high, have you got something special on today?’

‘Thanks, Gary,’ I reply on his behalf. ‘Nothing special, I’ve met this lady that I like and I’m trying to look my best. You should give it a try. You’re looking a right mess, if you don’t mind me talking around that fact.’

‘I’m just going to buy a pie. No need to dress up for that.’

‘What if you meet a beautiful lady at the pie shop? You’ll wish you’d thought a bit more around what you look like… You’d think about me and say to yourself, That lad was well prepared. He’d covered a lot of bases that I haven’t even started to address.’

‘Yeah, maybe that could happen,’ I reply. ‘Thanks for the tip. So, where did you meet this new lady of yours?’