God help me! About eight years ago just as Mr Clairwil and I started courting, a gentleman of advanced years developed an unhealthy interest in me. I had briefly worked beside him in a dreadful part-time office job I'd taken at low point in my life. Whilst I have no recollection of him ever being in the same workplace as me at anytime in my entire life, he assures me that we were colleagues. He certainly seems to recall some of the highlights of that short episode in my career. Chiefly the time I caused outrage by describing Mother Teresa as a 'cunt' and asserting that Princess Di was loads better than her. She was, I can prove it, though I don't have time just now.
Anyway I was minding my own business this morning in a well known bookshop when he pounced. Having not seen him for eight years I didn't have the faintest idea who he was. I just assumed I'd represented him at a benefit tribunal or something. I could have cried when I realised the full horror of the situation. How in the name of Christ did he remember who I was? Those that know me will be able to tell you that I look very different these days. He offered to take me for a coffee, a pub lunch and dinner. All of which I refused, so he asked for my phone number. Do I say no in a particularly encouraging way? Is he mental? All I know is that he has ideas above his station.
Oh and if he phones you looking for me, I can only apologise I just made up the first number that came into my head. Sorry. I do realise that I could just have told him to fuck off but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. It's a terrible failing but I can't help but feel that anyone that likes me can't be all bad.
One ray of sunshine in the most terrifying day of my life was picking up a slim volume by the name of 'Not Many Dead' half-price in the sale. It's taken from a column in 'The Oldie' and concerns bits of non-news submitted by readers. As Mr John Humphreys correctly points out 'the truly shaming thing about this book is that it's all true.....God help us!'. It's hard to convey just what a waste of ink the news stories concerned are, though as with all 'we're all going to hell in a handcart' books it's oddly uplifting, albeit in a 'you mean I'm not alone' way. I shall leave you with a few gems from 'Not Many Dead'- just take care not to faint with surprise or shock -unless of course you want to hit the headlines.
'Singer Billy Joel badly gashed his finger on the lid of a tin of beans he was opening for his dinner at home in Long Island'
- Daily Mirror
'Nigel Dempster, the Daily Mail gossip columnist, had a painful bruise after bumping his head on a door at his home'
'Camilla Parker Bowles ran to catch up with the Prince of Wales after attending church with him at Sandringham. She was holding a bunch of red tulips.'
'Police who went to round up some straying sheep in Derbyshire found that the animals had already returned to their field'
All true and there's more.....