Bad news for Mr. Constantine, one of the customers at Panama Street Library. He's very fond of lorries and every week or so he brings a poem about lorries for the girls at the library to have a look at (he hasn't found a rhyme for Eddie Stobart yet).
Unfortunately for Mr. Constantine, the Leader of the poetry group there — a lady of a certain age and forceful character — has got wind of this. So delighted is she by the idea of getting a man into her group that she's virtually stalking the poor beggar.
"I can't even go to the chemists without me balaclava helmet on."