Protest, plans and paranoia

And I could continue the alliteration to ridiculous lengths, by adding pubescent pulchritude and a painful patella, but that would be excessive!
It seems to be my week for encountering the antis - after my annoyance at the bumper sticker I saw last Sunday, I came across another irritant, at much closer quarters, opposite the Houses of Parliament this afternoon. A man, maybe 60-something, was holding up a placard with the logo 'Marriage = Man + Woman'. As I walked past, I was tempted to engage him in discussion, to ask why he thought I shouldn't have the same rights as him (not that I've got the slightest expectation that marriage equality will ever impinge directly on my life), but a moment's reflection made me realise that if one old man with a rather pathetic two foot square placard was the best the 'opposition' could come up with, the battle is pretty much won! Yeah, I know it's not as simple as that in reality, but it was still a comforting thought.
This has been mooted for almost a week, but wasn't confirmed until this morning - I'm going down to my brother's place tomorrow, and staying through to Sunday. I'll hopefully be taking my brother and sister-in-law, and possibly my niece and nephew, depending on any other plans they might have, out for a meal, to at least make a gesture towards some recompense for all they did for me while I was ill. We may be able to meet up with some other friends tomorrow evening, too, if all goes well, so It should be a good trip - and will probably end up with my sticking two fingers up to the rat poison clinic, and not being as moderate in my alcohol consumption as they recommend!
I had a rather silly moment or two of paranoia while I was up in town, as I got the idea in my head that I'd upset someone I didn't want to upset, but, once more, any consideration tempered with the merest hint of common sense would suggest that the person concerned wouldn't even know what I was talking about if the subject was raised directly. I try to be rational about things, as far as I can, but I do let my emotions run away with - or from - reality sometimes.
The couple of subsidiary 'p' phrases came close together, both in terms of time and place - thanks to an unaccountable piece of bus driving, where the driver unexpectedly decided to lurch forward by all of about three feet, despite being in a seemingly non-moving traffic queue, as I was preparing to get off, I smacked my knee against a handrail, leading to the sort of lump normally associated with a bump on the head on my kneecap, while, shortly afterwards a handful of bus stops away on my next connection, three cuties, obviously friends and schoolmates joined the bus. I would quite happily have given any or all of them a hug - or whatever! - given a quarter of a chance, but, needless the say, even a quarter of a chance is way out of reach. C'est la guerre.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B