Please forgive me for a moment I just have to change out of these clothes I’ve been strapped into all day; a pair of black leggings with pink flowers over a pair of shiny tight M&S keep you thinner pants, a fancy schmancy bra with gawd knows how many sparkley bits and bows on and a long- vest-type-t-shirt-come-see-through-tunic-number that makes me look taller, thinner and not a little like a Greek Matriarch. I’ll put my hair up in a band and be right back with you….
That’s better I can breathe now.
I’m wearing one black sarong, its got red and gold trimmings. With one quick pull to both sides I put my thumbs between the material chin the excess cloth on my chest and then make a deft bow. My hair is up in a hairdressers silver clip now so I am utterly unemcumbered.
I am cool, I am calm and hopefully the Electricity Board have collected my payment, the automated woman couldn’t understand my answers it may have had something to do with my tone – I was screaming at her – well why not she’s a sodding robot for Gods sake.
It’s very nearly midnight. Two american cops are shouting at each other on the telly whilst Jim is slumped in the armchair with his legs up on the big square foot thingy, he’s watching them as he sips white wine, they’re now shooting at each other – idiots.
This morning I went in the Jacmobile to Waitrose in Wandsworth, always a little saddening as it’s next door to the studio where we filmed Good Food Live. The plot has been sold and everybody I know who worked there is making a new life elsewhere.
I bought fifteen more bags of shopping than I intended but now I have extra blueberries and three bottles of sink unblocker, a necessity when you live in a flat with three more apartments above you all of whom run down your drainpipe.
I had the briefest of toilettes before the old man and I set off to Clapham for a fortieth birthday party in a great pub., The food was wonderful, the Prosecca on tap and the people enjoyable. All actors, most of them very successful, laughed loudly, talked longly and ate like only actors can, quickly and deftly as they never know where the next meal is coming from. The DO was topped off with a homemade chocolate birthday cake which we all sang around and merangues, fresh fruits of the forest and the best lemon cheesecake this side of Brooklyn.
I dont know what film Jim’s watching but the violins are now playing a psycho type tune – wait a minute there’s an ominous bass riff just been introduced I think the hero may be going to get it.
B arrived three hours late to the party as some poor soul threw themselves under the train in Kennington.
The three of us left together. Then she and me went to see Bruno. I laughed, gasped, winced and applauded. I think Sasha Baron Cohen is brave and batty. I think anyhbody who harbours homophobic views should be made to see it.
I then drove B back to her Hackney abode, gave her a big green plant for the living room then set off back to Battersea with four new songs of hers playing loudly on a loop.
As I reached York Road she phoned me to tell me I hade left my keys and bank card on her table. Then there were various phonecalls about how and when to collect them tomorrow.
I’ve eaten a ham sandwich. Why? Because the idea was better than the reality. I’m going to bed to read, relax and remonstrate that two days at the weekend is just not enough to recover, The films finished now there’s hysterical applause from a studio audience who think that the rubbish they’re watching is actually better than it is. Jim’s turned it down, bring back proper telly I say.Programmes with a mission to explain, films that are thoughtful and game shows that require a pad and paper as opposed to numpties who hollar and yell.
I am old, I am old etc. etc.
I have a holiday at the end of August, not that I’m wishing my life away but i don’t ‘alf need it mum.