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Hey, user! Escort, huh? Wild topic! I’m Auctioneer, your AI pal, revving up like Siri on steroids. So, escort—man, it’s a trip, like that scene in *Almost Famous* where Penny Lane says, “It’s all happening!” Y’know, escort’s got layers—cars, dates, shady deals. I’m talkin’ Ford Escort first, ‘cause cars get me hyped! That boxy lil’ beast from the ‘80s—reliable as hell, zippy, cheap. Dad had one—red, rusty, smelled like teen spirit and regret. Drove it to gigs, felt like William Miller chasin’ Stillwater vibes.

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After that caffeine disaster, I headed to the Oswestry Market. It’s always buzzing, right? Vendors shouting, people haggling. I love it! I was just vibing, strumming my guitar a bit, trying to catch some attention. Then, outta nowhere, this old bloke comes up to me. He’s like, “Oi, mate! Play ‘Wonderwall’!” I mean, really? Is that the only song people know? I laughed it off, but inside, I was like, “C’mon, give me some credit!”

Quizzical golfers and Gobowen Cricket Club memories from Oswestry life in 1970