An English episode

I'm sat opposite two English ladies, both 44. I start with these details because they are otherwise anonymous and have little else in common. The first lady, name omitted, though nothing unflattering is to be said, has traveled well. She first visited the beach 25 years previously and has returned to see how it has changed. Just about everything, as it turns out, but she isn't about to pass judgement. I'll call her the fairer English lady, and give an account of a meek character used to weathering criticism of her life choices. Living as a small scale vegetable farmer in Spain, and raising her son off the grid, after his childhood accompanying her world travels. She has the crowning jewel now to refute all parenting critics after her variously educated son studied and passed both GCSEs and A-levels within a year and a half, and now studies on one of the most prized university courses in the UK. I feel slightly ashamed when she is browbeaten by the resident Scotch-Dutch pseudoscience hippie. But not beyond recovery, and there is a joint recommendation that TED talks are worth a watch.
The second lady, to be called the fiery lady, made her introduction by demonstrating her exclusivity with the presence of the Scotch Dutch hippie. The near violent confrontation exposes teeth and bone on each side. The hippie disappears with such subtlety that I notice by the absence of his coffee. This fiery lady seems to be in a bit of a state. From what I gather between the "fucking mates" and the "fucking well proper" I try and pick out the truth. I could call her an unreserved character, but she puts it more succinctly "yes I know I'm a cunt". "Sorry sorry". But it's more than this, she isn't well, and may have been drinking. The events are distinctly public, as anyone present would have seen, but should be read without judgement.
Unfortunately at moments the other customers catch her attention. She loudly expresses a desire to lick the head of a par-bald Germanic-looking man. Later an unfortunate Indian troupe in silly hats catch her attention.
"Fucking knob head"
"You in the hat with the string"
"You look like a right knob head"
The Indian man speaks with the waiter in Kannada (local language)
"You know wot a prat you look like in that hat"
She is equally graceful on the phone, to what may be some kind of acquaintance.
"Send me money"
"I'm giving you fucking 24 hours right, or I will fucking burn your huts down"
Both the fiery lady and the psedoscience hippie have decided it's ok to criticise my body at various times. This is rather annoying! I am all too aware of the ugly vanity of the beach without these critics.

I fear some impending catastrophe in the guest house as the numbers of alcoholics, gorillas, mental health cases, doddering old fools, rats, cockroaches and hypocrites rise. Some kind of fireworks are due.