Alan Ford as the east end thug on the Armando Ianucci Show is the funniest thing I have ever seen and I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier. Anyway………
By a long way, the best thing going on in my life at the moment is the very casual friendship I’ve built with a cat that lives near the station. Maybe not everyday but most days when I am on my way back from Brentwood train station, on that bit where you’re sort of coming off Warley Mount into Headley Chase, there’s a black cat chilling on the pavement. It takes a couple of seconds after first locking eyes for us to acknowledge each other, neither of us wanting to appear needy we greet the same way two weary sea captains may do as their ships pass each other on the open ocean.
But after a couple of seconds this little fluffy bastard gets up and starts scurrying towards me. Then he’ll walk a couple of paces past me, again playing it very cool, before looping around and cashing in on a few head strokes and chin scratches. Our interactions last less than 10 seconds each time they occur, you see I’m acutely aware of how charming I am and thus ration time I spend around strangers and cats that belong to strangers. The last thing I need is another cat that’s not mine trying to move in.
Being super charming and handsome is more of a concern in my role as a reluctant bar steward. Having collected one and a half stalkers and been the recipient of far too many indecent proposals (from men) I find it’s generally easier to just be a bastard and wear trackies. No one ever fancied anyone in trackies. Wearing trackies is pretty much the unspoken universal way of saying ‘fuck off mate I’m not in the mood’. Anyway none of what I have written is relevant to anything and that’s okay.
Cheers