He was a late-middle-aged man, but he was not some tweed-strictured* fossil. He was a waterproof-jacket-and-casual-slacks wearer, who was clearly in touch with at least some inventions of the modern age. Gore-Tex, for example. Also, he was reading The Independent.
I assume he wore the monocle because one of his eyes is much lamer than the other. If I was afflicted in such a way, instead of with tedious old chronic myopia, I might go for a magnifying glass, which I would wear on a chain hanging from my belt.
The monocled eye looked brilliantly googly and looming through the glass, and I found myself hoping he had some young grandchildren or nieces and nephews who would be giddily spooked by it, and grow up to remember its strangeness with an ever-increasing degree of exaggeration.
Today was almost as thrilling as the occasion last year when I saw a businessman wearing an actual bowler hat.
*I may be using this incorrectly.