Working in a nice restaurant you often come up against large tables of women, whose association is usually a Rotary Club, perhaps a School Council or some other similar social group. If these ladies represent the 'upper middle class' or there or there about you end up dealing with more than a few eccentricities. For a waiter one of the worst is the rambling lists of food allergies that have stricken modern civilisation. My great aunt almost perished from eating a normal diet whilst being coeliac in a time when no one knew what it was. Hence I don't begrudge people with medically diagnosed allergies imploring a restaurant to cater for them. However I can sum up the more common situation with a statement made by one fed up waiter many years ago. "There is a difference between your doctor telling you you're a coeliac and your naturopath telling you you're a coeliac."
It baffles me that anyone would want to live on a restricted diet or what logic is utilised to justify the fabrication of severe food allergies. Are you slightly bloated after big meals? Perhaps you ate to much? Perhaps you shouldn't drink sulphur ridden wines with your food? No, of course not. You're a coeliac, hence from this point on, or at least until your will power breaks you will torment every waiter and restaurant you visit with incessant requests for gluten free dishes, pestering all staff members unfortunate enough to encounter you with the severity of your condition, how you will devolve into an incontinent, gut ache ridden nightmare of a being if so much as an ounce of treacherous gluten is introduced into your food. Dutifully however the waiter does the best he can, usually concocting a plate of grilled fish and steamed vegetables for you to consume, content that someones paid attention to you today.
Real coeliacs lay low in agony after ingesting gluten. Severe pain, vomiting, diarrhoea and malnutrition, weakness and early death can occur if their condition is not treated properly. Why a plethora of people would wish to emulate this horrible condition simply because they at some point in the recent past had a belly ache is beyond me. I dedicate a piece of writing to the one lady on these tables who does not carry on like this. In fact, perhaps with just a little self-consciousness always acknowledges the waiter with a smile and thank you whenever they encounter each other. She enjoys eating out, perhaps a little more than she enjoys the company of her 'friends' who perhaps she spends time with simply because its better than doing nothing that day. Her smiles, pleases, thank you's and graciousness have not gone unnoticed and she will be known as the Ascot Matron.
If I ever write anything decent I hope I do her justice.

The Road Backwards....

They call you an animal, the Kangchenjunga Demon, Wild Man, Metoh-Kangmi.
Lying in my tent, I can hear your cry echoing round the mountainside.
You sound lonely.

While crossing the Lhakpa-La something jumped down from the rocks.
In the remote Garo Hills by Dipu Marak we found footprints in the snow.

The schoolmaster of Darjeeling said he saw you by the Tengboche Monastery.
You were playing in the snow. You were banging on the doors. You got up on the roof, Roof of the World.
You were pulling up the rhodedendrons. Loping down the mountain.
They want to know you. They will hunt you down, then they will kill you.
Run away, run away, run away...

While crossing the Lhakpa-La something jumped down from the rocks.
In the remote Garo Hills by Dipu Marak we found footprints in the snow.
We found your footprints in the snow. We brushed them all away...

From the Sherpas of Annapurna to the Rinpoche of Qinghai.
Shepherds from Mount Kailash to Himachal Pradesh found footprints in the snow.

You’re not a langur monkey nor a big brown bear – You’re the Wild Man.
They say they saw you drowned near the Rongbuk Glacier.
They want to hunt you down. You’re not an animal.
The Lamas say you’re not an animal.

This song is a particular favourite of mine as it combines two of my more beloved subjects; Kate Bush and Cryptozoology. As a teenager I was obsessed with the world's unseen animals, even going as far as to design a reserve to house them all once I'd captured them in due course.
As a 'grown up' cynicism has vanquished most of my belief's in the Loch Ness Monster, the Mothman and the Chupacabra but I defiantly keep a small light on for the Sasquatch, the Yeti, the Yeren and the Yowie. These days I rationalise the idea of giant apes living evasively in the last remaining wild places of the world by believing them to be relict, isolated populations of early man; who by means of inbreeding and isolation from the greater part of Humanity has shaped them into a being less like us and more like our distant ancestors. Atavism - the phenomena of throwback physical characteristics in animals (such as hen's teeth) is real and could be worsened by a diminished gene pool and social isolation. The product could well be (if the offspring aren't to deformed or sickly) a creature with more in common with our primate ancestors than with us. Their elusive nature could be the product of a developed instinct that serves them more than well and that is simply, 'keep away from the bald skins!'. A conscious effort to avoid Humanity would would probably be the best survival instinct any beast could hope to have. If the animals had anything resembling our level of intelligence their art of remaining hidden and aloof could be very sophisticated.

This song inspired a short story that I hope to put together soon. The named is 'The Road Backwards' after a phrase used by one of the characters. The protagonist of the story is a man who has suffered a massive trauma, a loved one or ones have died unnaturally leaving him scarred and hopeless. Seeking to fill in time and take his mind off things he falls in with a group of cryptozoologists studying the Sasquatch legend. Through the teams defacto leader, an older man with a gentle manner and great wisdom he learns more and more about the 'Big Foots' but cannot rationalise in himself how they're sighted across the world by various cultures on different continents. After a brief encounter with what could be a Sasquatch he takes over the group when his elderly mentor bows out and disappears, leaving a note bestowing sympathy on his circumstances and offering the advice "If the road ahead fails you, don't be afraid to explore the road backwards...."

Without going into to much detail (as it doesn't exist yet) the protagonist follows the old man into the Himalayas by exploring his notes, discoving a massive cave in the mountains that houses what the latter refers to as "an exposed segment of the deep engines of the Earth" a massive obelisk that dwarfs any manmade object made of an obsidian-esque stone. Standing in its shadow the protagonist finds himself offered the means to 'de-volve' into a ape being and forego his Humanity and the traumas he's endured. The old man has known about this cave for years and has discerned that the many 'Wild Men' of the world are people who've found it and opted to abandon their Humanity for a simpler bestial existence. Having resisted his initial encounter the old man returned to the world and sought out many of the Wild Men before returning to the cave to restart his life anew as one. The protagonist, offered the same choice now, reflects on his life and the pain he's endured and opts to devolve, emerging from the cave as a Sasquatch, still equipped with his mind and memories but now apathetic to them and the emotions that once haunted him. Instead he is now driven by hunger and thirst and makes his way down the mountain in search of prey.

A small plot element I'm working on is the story of another person in the study group who perishes after encountering a Sasquatch (though probably by accident, falling off a ledge after being startled for instance) whose enthusiasm and utter belief in the cryptids feeds us information on the creatures. Another element I'm working on are the Big Foot's themselves. I believe the main character needs to encounter atleast one during the story to incite his belief in them. I also believe he should encounter one in or around the cave that guards it or lives in its facinity.

For me the story needs to tie together the many Big Foot legends from around the world neatly to work. Citing the fact that Big Foot are seemingly present in Canada, the US, continental Europe, China, Tibet, India, Australia and South-East Asia I like the idea that they all come from the same source, a sort of metaphysical engine perhaps older than life on Earth whose effect on Humans is to devolve them into something more primitive. Why it does this and how are questions I don't know how to answer. Whether the effect is intentional or accidental I also can't figure out. The largest factor as far as I can see is that it appears to offer a choice to those who encounter it and that some have walked away unchanged whilst others have opted to stop being Human. The protagonist in my mind is someone for whom the modern world's remedies for grief, depression and despair haven't worked and makes the decision to live a life free from Human sadness.