Hostility lurks on every corner – but going for a run dressed as a turkey restored my faith in people

I was in my car with the engine switched off, waiting at a level crossing. Three trains had gone past and still, the gates would not rise. Bored and frustrated, I passed the time scrolling through some emails on my phone. Then, I felt a presence. I looked up and saw a man on my right-hand side, peering through the window. I flinched in surprise. He was tall, slim, in his 30s, dressed in a dandyish style (felt collared overcoat, tweedy slacks, silver shoes) and stood on one of those rental scooters you see zipping about the city. He was staring right at me, nose almost pressed to the window. I made a face at him. Eyebrows raised, chin out, nose wrinkled. It was a face that tried to say: ‘What the fuck do you want?’

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He scooted around to the front of my car and began to examine it closely, like a car rental operative checking for bumps and scratches. Then he looked back at me, his face inscrutable. I wound down the window and stuck my head out: “Are you OK mate? What’s the problem?” 

“I’m not quite sure,” he said. With that, he spun his scooter around and pushed himself away as the level crossing gates finally opened.

I wasn’t sure how to feel. Confusion, offence and irritation all vied for prominence. For a brief moment, I thought about chasing him. But where would that get me? His scooter would have allowed him to take routes that I could not navigate in a car. I’d have had to jump out and pursue him on foot like I was in an episode of The Sweeney. And then what? If I caught him, what would I say? ‘Why were you looking at my car? Why were you looking at me? Why are you dressed so fancily? What’s with the fucking scooter?’

How could he have answered these silly questions? What answers did I want? Was it retribution I sought? Was I actually willing to punch this bloke? What was the matter with me?

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City life is mad. I encounter strange people every day, now more than ever. I’ve lived in London my whole life but I’m sure it didn’t used to be so stuffed full of weird behaviour. Oddball antics, hostility, suspicion and alienation seem to lurk on every corner. The country is in a mental health crisis: social media, lockdown, geopolitical meltdown and socioeconomic uncertainties; it’s all left us anxious and uptight.

But there is still hope. I did a fun run to raise money at the weekend. Everyone had to dress up as turkeys and run 10 kilometres. Afterwards, there was a get-together in the pub, where turkey sandwiches were served and a brass band played jazzy Christmas numbers. It was friendly and fun. I met new people from the neighbourhood. There was warmth and connection across different generations, classes and races. 

It helped melt a bit of cynicism and fear. I came away feeling optimistic. And I realised that, sometimes, zooming in on the people and places that surround you is healthy for your mood and your outlook. The never-ending stream of scary news stories; the avalanche of online conflict; the knowledge that our planet is burning and millions are struggling to make ends meet. Sometimes, it just doesn’t help to think too much about this stuff.

But if you look around those who live in your local community, notice the good in them, do what you can to be a decent neighbour, you will see and feel good. You’ll be doing your bit to make the world better. I don’t always practise what I preach. I’m as prone to moments of road rage and grumpy unsociability as the next middle-aged fart. But I am trying every day to be better. To learn how to take a deep breath and ignore the dickheads.

The world can seem ugly and sad if you look at the big picture. Look more closely and you will see it can still be beautiful. I’m glad I didn’t chase down that nutty dandy on his scooter. I hope the weird bastard has a really nice Christmas. And I hope you do too.

Read more from Sam Delaney on his Substack.

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