On walking to the tube this morning, I was hailed across the street by an unkempt working man in a dirty white van. He egressed from his vehicle and asked;
"Is this the only Cumberland Road around here?"*
"Yes" I replied, confidently, although unsure if this was true, as we had not defined the terms of the discussion, particularly in regard to the volume of area regarded within the term "around here".
On hearing this he confided: "I can't find a number three".**
I looked at the house numbers, which were consecutive along the one side of the road. He was parked outside number one, which was next to number two. Number two sat next to an unnumbered house, which sat between number two and number four. Number four was next to number five. There was a clear pattern emerging.
"Number three is the green one!" I deduced, with a Holmesian authority, and pointed at the green house between number two and number four.
The fellow looked at me, looked at the green house, and back at me again. He clearly believed me, but he couldn't quite figure out how I could tell with so little available information.
The words arse and elbow came to mind.
Note: what he actually said was:
*"Ziss sonly Cumbland Row 'rand 'ere?"
**"Ah carn finda numba free!"
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