Brighton is a great place for tourists and visitors, and there are always a large number of foreigners in shops and elsewhere, many of them students, but a fair number of older folk as well. Well, I was just emerging from Marks and Spencer with a couple of bags full of nice things to wear, and I was accosted by two older women of Germanic aspect.
'Ladies, please?' one said. Thinking they meant 'Ladieswear', I beamed and indicated all the clothing racks behind me. Pretty stupid, I know, but it's been pointed out to me that I'm slow to latch onto what people say to me. Always have been, nothing new about it; poor brain connections, or just a poor brain. 'No, no, ladies TOILETS, please.' Aaaaaah, light dawned. 'Upstairs' I said, and we were all smiles. Lucy, England's ambassador, had shown the way to our European friends. Nice to do one's bit. Entente cordiale, etc, except they definitely weren't French.
It struck me a minute later that even forthright, no-nonsense Europeans might be reticent about asking an English male where the ladies loos were. So I had passed muster. Mmmmm.
(Sorry about describing myself as a 'dumb blonde', but there is no such phrase as 'dumb greyhead')