WHY ARE SOME BRUMMIES SO RUDE?

WE CAN all moan about the credit crunch etc, but it still costs nothing to show good manners.

Earlier today I was on Bristol Street when a concerned woman of Eastern origin approached me ready to ask a question in a very polite manner.

Admitting she was hopelessly lost, she had overshot the Thistle hotel and had no idea how to get back to it.

After wondering how I could possibly explain the directions, I thought better of it - and said she could follow me if I got back in my car nearby.

It turns out that this lady was a slow driver, but, despite other cars coming between us, she managed to stay close enough behind to follow me.

I guided her all the way round the Belgrave Middleway roundabout, back along Bristol Street, through the Queensway tunnel, round the Lancaster Circus island and then back again towards the city to the front door of the Thistle / NCP car park.

It's amazing how much better it makes you feel if you know you've gone out of your way to help somebody, especially as I had two of my children with me to let them learn this key lesson of life at first hand.

Being in a position to be able to do such a good turn made my day... but not half as much as I made this visitor's.

Since she's originally from Mongolia but now lives in the rainswept outpost of Manchester, you can imagine a) this lady's sheer delight that her politeness meant that she'd found an express way of reaching her destination and b) how she'll always have a good word to say about Birmingham once she returns north.

She said her first activity next week would be to invest in satnav, but I told her not to bother since it's always much more fun if you can find somebody to ask.

Trouble is, as I was about to be quickly reminded, how many of us can rely on the kindness of strangers these days?

Minutes later I was in the Bullring where I made sure a young couple could get into my lift before the doors closed, even though the woman's oik had a hideous hair cut and tattoos that might have been 'X marks the spot' directions for the Boston Strangler.

I got no word of thanks and not even a look of gratitude from either of them.

Seconds later, I allowed a mother and daughter to get out first while staying behind to let this couple go next.

Still there was no word of thanks, nor the slightest hint of an acknowledgement at the end of what could only be described as Two Tales From One City.

I know who I'd rather be stuck in a lift with, and it's not the pair of Brummie Dummies.

As the great Jack Nicholson once said to me: 'Rude is for amateurs'.

He might also have added that it doesn't suit Brummies.