Friday, July 28, 2006
People say the funniest things
I know I’m always moaning about the misuse of mobile phones on the train; I know I’m the first to tut and raise my eyes to god when the fussing mothers get on the train and chatter incessantly about complete and utter garbage whilst deciding that anywhere where space is at a premium is a fantastic place to start knitting ; I know that my blood pressure goes through the roof when the diamond geezers get on the train insist on sitting nowhere near each other and then talk at a volume normally only associated with jet-engine testers and anyone remotely connected with tanks about “Are go gan dan the pub laters” or “did you shag that posh bird you was pulling last week?” all their time checking their phones and sitting with knees so far apart you would expect them to be graced with genitals more in common with a marrow and two grapefruit than a gherkin and two grapes. I know this, but despite all the pent up fury this generates that gets vented at my nearest and dearest there is occasionally a comment made by some of these travellers that makes you burst out laughing with the sheer brilliance it contains.
I’d actually thought the day couldn’t get any better. I seen a programme on TV the night before that had such a classic line in it I really though it bore repeating as if my own. The chance came when one of my colleagues made a ridiculous comment about Man Utd swapping Ruud Van Nistlroy for both Jermaine Defoe AND Michael Carrick. The moment was ripe. “Roy,” I said “I though I saw your name on a loaf of bread in the supermarket last night, but then I realised it said “thick cut”” Cue laughter and an air of complete superiority.
I was then discussing with a friend who is seven months pregnant how women who were on the ball, work orientated and world wise before their children arrive suddenly become little more than empty vessels who can do no more than repeat the antics of little Johnny and talk soaps. She then told me that when her friend gave birth recently her husband, who was at the business end of the operation was asked by the Doctor “Do you know what that is?” and indicated the afterbirth. “Well, it’s the afterbirth isn’t it?” replied the husband” “Sadly, no. That is a myth many believe. Unfortunately it’s actually your wife’s brain. Good luck from now on because we cannot put it back.” Brilliant. Two classics in a day. But the killer was yet to come.
I’ve selected my usual pew on the train. Close enough to a group of chattering women for their sheer volume to drown out the individuals on mobiles, but far enough away to not hear the “well my Gary says…….” Or “Kayleen’s op on her vulva went ok……” It’s normally a safe seat coz others try to avoid this crowd but I’m unlucky that a diamond geezer, all on his own, plops himself down next to me, pulls out his phone and decides to discuss with Gav whether he’s “going at t’morra” at a volume which does make you wonder whether the phone is actually necessary and perhaps he should just lean out the window. A dodgy connections means this conversation could well be repeated, but fortunately a stick-thin blonde in a lilac mini skirt that could easily double as a wide belt gets on and sit with him. “Alwight darling, as it gawing?” “Alright love, yeah tops”. Bang goes my chance of a quiet read to myself. They start the usual sort of banter but before long they start to talk about fitness and diet which is at least more interesting. The girl is bemoaning the fact that none of her clothes fit because she put on so much weight (cue more fat-on-a-chip scenario) and the geezer says how he needs to lose a few pounds too. And then it comes. “So, do you put on weight easily then?” she asks. After a pause DG answers “I don’t know really coz I’ve always been fat.” Priceless.
I’d actually thought the day couldn’t get any better. I seen a programme on TV the night before that had such a classic line in it I really though it bore repeating as if my own. The chance came when one of my colleagues made a ridiculous comment about Man Utd swapping Ruud Van Nistlroy for both Jermaine Defoe AND Michael Carrick. The moment was ripe. “Roy,” I said “I though I saw your name on a loaf of bread in the supermarket last night, but then I realised it said “thick cut”” Cue laughter and an air of complete superiority.
I was then discussing with a friend who is seven months pregnant how women who were on the ball, work orientated and world wise before their children arrive suddenly become little more than empty vessels who can do no more than repeat the antics of little Johnny and talk soaps. She then told me that when her friend gave birth recently her husband, who was at the business end of the operation was asked by the Doctor “Do you know what that is?” and indicated the afterbirth. “Well, it’s the afterbirth isn’t it?” replied the husband” “Sadly, no. That is a myth many believe. Unfortunately it’s actually your wife’s brain. Good luck from now on because we cannot put it back.” Brilliant. Two classics in a day. But the killer was yet to come.
I’ve selected my usual pew on the train. Close enough to a group of chattering women for their sheer volume to drown out the individuals on mobiles, but far enough away to not hear the “well my Gary says…….” Or “Kayleen’s op on her vulva went ok……” It’s normally a safe seat coz others try to avoid this crowd but I’m unlucky that a diamond geezer, all on his own, plops himself down next to me, pulls out his phone and decides to discuss with Gav whether he’s “going at t’morra” at a volume which does make you wonder whether the phone is actually necessary and perhaps he should just lean out the window. A dodgy connections means this conversation could well be repeated, but fortunately a stick-thin blonde in a lilac mini skirt that could easily double as a wide belt gets on and sit with him. “Alwight darling, as it gawing?” “Alright love, yeah tops”. Bang goes my chance of a quiet read to myself. They start the usual sort of banter but before long they start to talk about fitness and diet which is at least more interesting. The girl is bemoaning the fact that none of her clothes fit because she put on so much weight (cue more fat-on-a-chip scenario) and the geezer says how he needs to lose a few pounds too. And then it comes. “So, do you put on weight easily then?” she asks. After a pause DG answers “I don’t know really coz I’ve always been fat.” Priceless.
# posted by Bucko! @ 7:55 AM 
