2002-01-08 - 6:53 p.m.
�She�walked on you last Saturday�under the wheels�of a crowd on Main Street USA�.know how it feels��
Some parcels were delivered for the top floor apartment. When I�m (ahem) �working� (watching videos is valuable research I�ll have you know) from home, I double as a doorman because our flat is number one and delivery people obviously think that if flat 9 is out, flat 1 is the next best thing. Go figure. Three heavy boxes of domestic goods and a pillow. One was a humidifier, which made me think of that Steven Wright line, �I like to set up my humidifier and my dehumidifier in the same room and let them fight it out.�
Anyway, the boxes aren�t that much trouble in our small hallway � it just makes going to the kitchen like a physical training course for the marines corps, but I was getting used to it. Flat 9 turn up. A South African woman. She looks like a paralegal, though I�m not sure why as I�m not too clear what that actually is. Bossy. Introduces herself and then starts spouting off about how the delivery was meant to be next Saturday and what the hell is she meant to do (erm, let me get this straight, the stuff is�early?) and would I kindly give her a hand with the boxes since it�s three flights up and she�s �hid an ibsoloot pig of a diy�. Well, since you ask so politely � sure! I pick up the humidifier with the pillow on top to pass to her. Before you can say �astonishing levels of liberty-taking� she makes off with the pillow and scoots up the stairs leaving me wondering whether to follow her, or just set fire to everything straight away. I crawl up, only dropping the box about a foot when I get to her door. From inside, I could have sworn I heard a cork pop, and the words, �I�ll be down in a sic.� I go back down. And wait. Nothing. Obviously it�s taking her a while to exorcise the rigours of the day. I want to get back to my film, so with scant regard for the contents or minor vertebrae, I hoist the other two boxes up the stairs with as much noisy indignation as I can manage. She�s faking coming back down as I get to her landing. �Cirful!� she yells. Obviously not the standards of service she�s used to from the hired hands in the Transvaal. I only knock a bit of paint off her doorframe as I virtually lob them into her hallway, and though there was a vague attempt at thanks, she�s going to pay, obviously. Some people.
�She�she said cancel everything�and like a fool�you never see what�s happening�you dropped out of school��
This e-mail has been going round, but many of you will be unaware of the genius of Sid Wadell. He commentates on darts, which is about as lowbrow as sport gets, but he has a Degree in Classic from Cambridge (or something like that) and his commentary (highlights of which, I give you now) is just sublime:
"That's the greatest comeback since Lazarus."
"It's the nearest thing to public execution this side of Saudi Arabia."
"His physiognomy is that of a weeping Madonna."
"Eat your heart out Harold Pinter, we've got drama with a capital D in Essex."
"He looks about as happy as a penguin in a microwave."
"This is the clash that makes King Kong versus Godzilla look like a chimpanzees tea party!"
�The atmosphere is so tense , if Elvis walked in ,with a portion of chips.......you could hear the vinegar sizzle on them.�
"Steve Beaton, he's not Adonis, he's THE donis"
"The players are under so much duress, it's like duressic park out there!"
and my personal favourite:
"When Alexander of Macedonia was 33, he cried salt tears because there were no more worlds to conquer. Bristow's only 27."
�I should have told you�to lose that girl�I should have told you�that�s not your world�on her radio, she turned the disco down�disco down!�
