Recently, the decision was made to turn the public restrooms at Waunfawr Park in Risca into a “takeaway café.” I don’t know who’s in charge of these things but seems to me like taking the only public toilets out of a sprawling park where sporting events are often held and elderly people spend their days walking their dogs and kids come to play after school is a stupid fucking idea.
But I’m not in charge of these things.
(Jay tells me that they, at least, left a single disabled toilet, which is something. I guess.)
We had an hour to kill the other day so we decided to stop by and see what was on offer.
For total clarity, I already wasn’t feeling well when we pulled up. I had a migraine for the sixth day in a row and even though it was cloudy, the sunlight was killing me.
When we arrived, though, a pair of crows we feed (sort of) regularly saw us and called out, so things started to look up. We grabbed some nuts and made our way down to The Hatch. Jay ordered (adding Flakes to our bubble gum/rum and raisin ice cream cones like the lunatic he is,) and told me to wait for them while he threw some nuts down for the birds.
Seems like something even someone with my tenuous grasp on adulting could handle, right?
Enter Old White Man™.
*sigh*
I was there, waiting patiently (if awkwardly) and this OWM struts right up to the counter, shrivelled dick first, forcing me to move or have my personal space violated. I moved because if someone had touched me at that point, I would have thrown up on them. (And then possibly beaten them to death with my cane.)
No “excuse me.” No apology. Not even an acknowledgment that another human being was standing there. Just another man who thinks he’s entitled to any available space forcing me out of it.
If you know me, you know I don’t handle these situations well on the best of days.
And it wasn’t the best of days.
So I said loudly enough for him and the girls behind the counter to hear, “Sorry, was I standing here?!” Neither the OWM or the girls behind the counter acknowledged that I had spoken. They were all too busy catching up, seemingly knowing each other already.
Jay came back at pretty much that moment, saw that I was spiralling and why. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes and said, “I know.” We took our ice cream off to a bench to “enjoy,” with me complaining loudly the whole way about Old White Men and their entitlement.
So… for clarity, I was poorly and I was pissed off. I already wasn’t having a good experience, and there’s no way that didn’t affect my enjoyment of my rapidly melting ice cream – which was… meh.
I dunno. There was a weird tang I couldn’t get around and I couldn’t enjoy the ice cream because of it. It cost a lot for what it was, though, so I finished what I didn’t end up wearing. (Which was a lot – and why? It wasn’t even that hot.) Jay said his tasted “okay, I guess,” so maybe my messed up body was just reacting to the stress.
All things considered, I was less happy about the new establishment after visiting than I was when I first heard about it. Waunfawr park doesn’t need another café (there are several near the park already and more than one ice cream van that makes regular stops there.) It needs more bathrooms.
But, hey, I’m not in charge of these things.
I just won’t be going back.