I had an affair last week; in fact I had two. Both with attractive women half my age. One of them worked for Tesco's and the other at Halfords. Well, perhaps affair would be a bit strong, encounter would be better a word, and there was no actual touching.
The Tesco delivery van arrived as planned on Saturday and instead of the usual burly menfolk, a young slip of a girl was standing on the doorstep. She was bright and bubbly and in no way butch. She looked like she had just put her make-up on. She apologised for spilling a little cream over the shopping bags because she went over a speed bump too fast. My kind of girl I thought. She had tried to clean it up and it really was a tiny amount so I told her not to worry and that I would sue the council for excessive speed-bumping. She volunteered to bring the shopping in but I told her not to bother. I could see it was just a ploy to get me to invite her in. Dearly Beloved though it was because she thought I was an old git who needed a hand but I beg to differ. She hefted the packed and heavy boxes like an Olympic weightlifter which belied her slight frame and left with a sunny smile and a cheery wave. Most importantly, there were no substitutions.
As I left for work the other day I noticed the headlight was out on the car. I went to Halfords in the afternoon to get a replacement and decided to have them fit it as it's a fiddly job, especially for someone with sausage fingers like mine. The young girl on the till served me promptly and made an announcement over the tannoy for someone to come and assist. On the second attempt a chap appeared, followed me out to the car and whipped out the old bulb with a flourish then attempted to fit the new one. Time went on and I walked around the car for a while, he was clearly having difficulty.'Well it should go on' he said ' you just have to twist it.' 'Excuse me, I'll be back in a minute.' He disappeared back into the shop while I was entertained by a road rage incident outside the neighbouring shop between a van driver and a cyclist. The girl who had been on the till came sashaying across the car park towards me (yes sashaying) with her hair blowing in the breeze like a model on a catwalk.
'I'm sorry it's taking so long she said with a beaming smile, soon have you on your way.' She slipped her tiny hand under the bonnet and fitted the bulb in a trice. 'Give me a flash' she said. I assumed she meant my headlights so I did. 'That's it, all done.' She presented me with another beaming smile and disappeared back into the shop.
Sometime ago we had a wasp's nest in the external wall of our house. I rang the council who sent round a pest control operative in a van full of chemicals and rat traps. I was expecting a rough looking chap who looked like he would break your arm for twenty quid but young girl who appeared to be bunking off of school got out of the van. She whipped out her chemicals, shimmied up her ladder like a cat burglar and the job was done in double quick time. There were no amateur dramatics such as sucking in air over her teeth to indicate it was going to be tricky, fussing with the ladder or hints for a cup of tea. She was back on her way in no time.
Clearly I'm a sexist dinosaur who is still living in the dark ages but I can't help but be impressed when young,pretty girly-girls outperform men in traditionally male occupations. My MOT test is due in February, I can't wait.
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The world is a strange and obscure place full of mystery and wonder. There are secrets buried in time that we will never uncover, many things our puny brains can't fathom now and things hidden in the future that are yet to be revealed to us. The ancients had their awe-inspiring wonders such as the hanging Gardens of Babylon and the Colossus of Rhodes but our modern 'wonders' are a little more prosaic. Well they make me wonder anyway. In no particular order they are:
1, Why do people drive with their headlights on during the day, even in bright sunlight? This seems to be a new phenomenon becoming more apparent over the last couple of years. Do modern cars have lights that you can't switch off?
2, Why do people who walking in one direction while looking in another always seem surprised when they bump in to you? Sometimes they look annoyed as if it were your fault.
3,Why are politicians surprised that people are voting UKIP when all the major parties have been sidestepping the immigration issue for decades and blatantly ignoring the public's concerns either real or imagined?
4, Who actually watches Made in Chelsea.
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| Catlossus of Rhodes. |
5, Why would anyone want to get a beauty treatment such as eyebrow threading done in the middle of a shopping centre in full view of the public? Hey look at me everyone, I'm hairy.
6, Why do people volunteer to go on shows such as Jeremy Kyle and Embarrassing bodies? Where do they find all these people with such low self-esteem and self-respect that they are happy to get their most private parts and gross deformities out for the camera?
7, Why do companies employ people who speak bad English and can't pronounce your name properly to ring you at inconvenient and often anti-social hours to try and sell you things. They can't have heard of that old sales adage 'you only get one chance to make a first impression.'
These are things that I find mind boggling these days, I'm sure you have a couple to add. Feel free to comment.
My story: I wrote a short story a while ago and have decided to publish it in instalments on facebook. I believe Charles Dickens did something similar. It won't be everyone's cup of tea but I need as many comments as possible, both good and bad, I don't want to be the literary equivalent of the X Factor contestant who can't sing but thinks he's great because his mum says so.
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I was in a very large house, the two rooms at the front that we lived in were decorated and tidy but the rest of the house was nearly derelict. The building seemed to go on forever, floor after floor of abandoned rooms, some the size of ballrooms .The plaster was cracked and blown and there were holes in the impossibly high ceilings showing the floor boards of the rooms far above, the threadbare carpets were damp and musty with a faded pattern. The old wallpaper hung limply, falling away from the walls and decaying with age. In each room there were piles of junk, old toys, clothes and worthless bric-a-brac
mixed with parts of old engines. In some rooms metal shelving lined the walls loaded with old, broken and useless objects. I turned to the person next to me who was standing in the shadows. I couldn't see his face but I knew who he was although I couldn't quite put my finger on it as is often the way with dreams. I remarked ' I expect we'll be able to sell it and make a little profit.'
I quite often have this recurring dream although this one was quite upbeat as I could see a way out of my predicament. It's always the same scenario with a house in an appalling state and skip loads of junk lying about although the actual house changes. Most often I am walking through it distraught with despair about how much work there is to do and how I can never afford to do it all whilst kicking myself for my stupidity. The chief emotion is despair. Sometimes I am excited about the amount of space tinged with frustration that it's going to take years of work and huge amounts of money before I can get it in order. Dearly beloved is always there somewhere in the house out of sight but the over-riding feeling is that I am on my own.
I had this dream last week. I have been having it for years and I still don't have a clue what it means. Apparently the house represents my head but I can't figure out what's going on. It's not a nightmare as the feeling I am left with on waking is despair, not terror. I have always had recurring dreams starting from when I was very young and they have changed over the years. This is the latest incarnation so if any of you amateur psychologists would like to have a stab at explaining it, feel free. Answers on a postcard to BarkingmadMeadie.......
I watched the Channel 4 program 'It Was Alright In The 70s' the other week. It featured TV programmes from the 70's and what they used to show that they couldn't show now. There were lots of references to what would now be considered casual homophobia, racism and inappropriate sexual references mostly directed at school girls. The 70s used to be considered laughable as the 'decade that taste forgot' but now it's getting a much more sinister and malevolent reputation.
The world has moved on as it should and things that were acceptable to say and show then are not acceptable now, even if people still think it. What surprised me most was the shock and horror displayed by the younger generation of interviewees who weren't there at the time, the implication seemed to be that anyone who watched 'Benny Hill' should be a little ashamed of themselves. Those staples of 70s sitcom Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais came under fire for inappropriate references to paedophilia and even Carla Lane was mentioned for a casual mention of female rape fantasy. Clearly Jimmy Saville was the tip of the iceberg and everyone was at it. The younger generation were aghast.
Of course the production company set out to be provocative because that makes good Telly and I shouldn't be surprised at the modern reaction. The culture these days is for accusation and denouncement, pointing fingers and laying blame rather than a mild amusement for the past which didn't know any better. One needs to appear shocked and appalled in case you are deemed to be condoning it or complicit in some way. You can't be seen to laugh it off.
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| You Gotta Love the 70s. |
They have had some successes in changing our cultural history by adapting 'Enid Blyton' stories and chopping out the characters they don't like. You won't find references to those three scallywags and petty crooks " Golly, Wolly and Nigger' any more. They have managed to erase Gary Glitter and are currently at work airbrushing out Jimmy Saville from the BBC archives along with a handful of other TV personalities.
There were a lot of inappropriate references in the decade between the supposed liberation of the 60s and the social awaking of the 80s. In fact most of it was outrageously inappropriate. Perhaps we ought to save time by airbrushing the whole decade out at once and pretend it didn't happen. Mind you they are easily shocked these days, just trying using that old, mild playground insult 'spastic' and see what happens.
Did you ever have one of those days were everything goes wrong, the sort of day that defies logic and the natural order of things. I expect you have, I had one last week. It started when I went to the cupboard to get my trainers for the cycle to work; they weren't there. The cupboard is where they live and always are, except today. I didn't have much time for a good look so I had to put on my old, retired trainers with the holes in. Luckily I hadn't got round to putting them in the bin yet. I had noticed the previous evening that my beanie hat wasn't in my bag where it should be either. That's not such a loss as I look a twat in it but it did keep my ears warm.
The cycle was uneventful and I had my shower at work in the normal manner, but standing there dripping wet, I discovered that I had forgotten my uniform work shirt. I am really pernickety about packing my backpack for exactly this reason. I make a point of counting the items in and double checking. I've been doing it for years with no mishap, until today. I even began to suspect a prank but then realised it was paranoia. I didn't have time to cycle home and couldn't sit there all day in my sweaty t shirt being ridiculed by my team mates. What to do? Fortunately it was a Saturday and Dearly Beloved was at home so I attempted to ring her to see if she would do an emergency dash and bring one down in the car. There followed a comedy of errors which included missed calls, voicemail messages, my phone ringing my good buddy instead which wouldn't allow me to disconnect and returned calls that my phone wouldn't allow me to accept no matter how many times I pressed the 'answer' button all topped off with some frantic texts. Eventually I managed to explain my predicament and she brought one down.
Unfortunately, the Tesco shopping delivery was due at exactly the time Dearly Beloved was rescuing me. I imaged her making phone calls trying to reorganise the delivery she had missed due to my stupidity. She wouldn't have been pleased. Fortunately, she made it back just in time. Unfortunately she didn't have a key as our youngest son had it so she couldn't get back in. She thought she would have to sit on the door step all day surrounded by shopping and waiting for me to cycle back home. In a rare flash of good luck, our middle son was late for work so he let her in. A minor disaster narrowly avoided.
As you would expect on such a day I was given my least favourite job at work which is currently going through some 'operational changes' leading to cock ups and confusion all round. By the time I left for the cycle home my head was spinning. I was trying to stick to my guns by not buying a bottle of red wine on the way but the cracks were showing. I managed to steel myself and avoided the shop but the day wasn't finished with me yet.
The light bulb in the kitchen has been playing up for a while and it finally went that night. However, then it came on again flickered of a while then went off again, then on again. The bulb was off, then I closed the back door and it came on again. By this time I'm taking the hint that this is probably an electrical fault rather than the bulb. You can't work on electrics in the dark so my next day off is going to be spent inspecting the circuitry and worrying how much a re-wire would cost. That's if the house doesn't burn down in the meantime. I was still resisting the draw of the red wine at the point but then came the coup- de- grace. One of Shakespeare's witches rang our doorbell.
She rang it not once but four or five times, it sounded like the prelude to a police raid. I warily pulled open the door and did a comic double take, there was no-one there. I looked down and there she was sitting on my doorstep. I know of this lady, she is elderly with curly grey hair, she looks exactly like a witch complete with warts and wispy chin hair. She has that look that suggests she is not entirely with it. She likes to feign illness by sitting outside our local shops and looking poorly until some kind soul comes across and asks her if she is all-right. Sometimes she pretends to fall down so people run over and call an ambulance for her. When the ambulance arrives she makes a miraculous recovery and wanders off. She is well known to the local emergency services and here she was sitting on my doorstep. She looked up at me with plaintive, rheumy eyes, held out her unsteady stand and said 'buy a raffle ticket dearie?'
'No thanks' I said closing the door on her in a manner which hopefully suggested that I was going to have no truck with her shenanigans and to make herself scarce. I waited five minutes before opening the door to check she had gone which she had. She has never done this before and hopefully she won't do it again.
By this time my resolve had dissolved and I was off down the local shop for a bottle of red wine. After the first glass the day's events disappeared in to history and no further mishaps occurred that day. I'm sure this is a normal day for some people out there but it had far too much drama for my liking. You will be pleased to know that the following day was uneventful and suitably chilled, mind you I still have the electrics to fix and I still haven't found my shoes.
