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Oct. 26th, 2006 07:18 pm
Tuesday evening the 'Gosport Gremlins' - my mother, me, Peter our driver, his colleague Arron, Michelle the Mayoral PA, and councillor John - went up to Basingstoke for Tony the Basingstoke Mayor's Charity Ten Pin Bowling Night.
Remembering my promise to Peter, I dug out my A Cockney Christmas CD and he carried out his threat to play it on the drive up. He explained to John and Arron, sitting at the back of the people carrier, that the idea was we'd all be so fed up with Yuletide songs that we'd be well charged up for the bowling competition. He exhorted us all to sing along; Michelle and I did so enthusiastically, but despite Michelle's frequent shouts at them and comments like "It's still quiet in the back seat," John and Arron never joined in. During Twelve Days Of Christmas, whenever we got to 'two turtle doves' my mother added 'Coo! Coo!' For 'six geese a-laying' Peter did a graphic impression of a bird straining to lay an egg. Not one to be left out, Michelle yelled 'Splash!' at 'seven swans a-swimming'.
When we arrived, among those already there were Jim and Maria; cue Maria and me having our usual kiss and bear hug. We had a long time to wait till we got a lane, but we weren't at a loose end : there was a huge fuck off buffet with chicken wraps, chicken legs, cheese and pickle brown rolls, lots of sossies and ENDLESS peanuts, followed by oodles of chocolate biscuits and three massive gateaux. Even when I'd had a heaping plateful, Margaret the Basingstoke Mayoress urged me to bog in for seconds - "it's all got to be eaten". Meanwhile I developed a strong liking for Castlemaine XXXX, a beer I'd never tried before but that was on sale here at £1 a bottle.
When we got a lane, my mother, who was first up, exhibited her plastered left hand (even though she bowls with her right) and invoked the right to use the disabled player's chute. She put her first ball in the gutter and played without the chute for most of the rest of the night - though on her second go she stepped over the foul line. On each the first two ends, I bowled a pair of gutter balls :( I got better after that, but despite Peter urging me every end "You're going to get a strike now" I never managed more than seven in an end, totalling 56. I at least wasn't our worst performer - Michelle limped home with 50. Peter was our star, racking up 87, but John had his moment of glory, getting two strikes.
At the end of the evening, the only placings they announced were first and last, winning bottles of bubbly and big wooden skittles respectively. We were neither. Peter did win a bottle of bubbly on the raffle, so as Michelle pointed out, we didn't go home empty-handed :)
More Christmas sing-alongs on the way back - we even got Arron joining in when it came to 'Merry Christmas Everybody', then at the end when I did a Noddy Holder yell of 'It's CHRIIIII-STMAAAAAAS!' Arron yelled 'It's OCTOOOOO-BEEEEERRR!' Then on 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day' Arron sang 'I wish it could be Christmas in October'! John was the last to crack; he joined in with the very last track, 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas'.
Michelle then handed me the task of writing a poem about our evening's exploits for the Town Hall staff newsletter - I agreed, but asked her to give me a week...
Yesterday morning we had perfect nibbles from my point of view - just red grapes and red apples. Seeing me tucking into a rosy red, Sarah #1 said approvingly "Nice healthy apple there, Wilhelmus. Good on you."
After work I was due to go round Hardcore Sue's at five, but got to Stubbington at half past three. I didn't have enough dosh for the Red Lion, the chippy didn't open until five, and although there was a lad behind the counter of the kebab shop, the front door was locked. Plus it was absolutely pissing down. Thank goodness for my Hampshire Week Bus Pass - I took the bus to Fareham and dived for Burger King. After I'd eaten I milled around the shops, leafing through books and next week's TV listings mags and admiring Kylie's and Madonna's calendars until it was time to get the bus to Stubs.
Arrived at Hardcore Sue's dead on five :) James spent the whole evening working out upstairs, so Sue and I passed a very enjoyable couple of hours getting merry on cans of Stella and reminiscing about her wedding, college days and old friends, and agreeing that Madonna had done a great thing giving baby David a chance of a good life - and he was in an orphanage so no-one can moan. When I told Sue about my experiences at the Gosport Festival this summer, Sue optimistically reckoned I was on a winner with Miss K2...
Today was Jackie's last day at work. That was my downfall, as she brought in loads of goodies for us, including a box of gorgeous butter biscuits - over the course of the shift I helped myself to half a dozen. I even sampled quite a few liquorice allsorts as well. Oh dear.
Good news when I arrived home - my pay slip had come in the post, and with all the extra shifts I did over the summer, this month I'm taking home a cool £696. At last my relationship with Mistress Overdraft will soon be over - for good this time, I hope.
Just an hour to go till the return of Catherine Tate :D
Remembering my promise to Peter, I dug out my A Cockney Christmas CD and he carried out his threat to play it on the drive up. He explained to John and Arron, sitting at the back of the people carrier, that the idea was we'd all be so fed up with Yuletide songs that we'd be well charged up for the bowling competition. He exhorted us all to sing along; Michelle and I did so enthusiastically, but despite Michelle's frequent shouts at them and comments like "It's still quiet in the back seat," John and Arron never joined in. During Twelve Days Of Christmas, whenever we got to 'two turtle doves' my mother added 'Coo! Coo!' For 'six geese a-laying' Peter did a graphic impression of a bird straining to lay an egg. Not one to be left out, Michelle yelled 'Splash!' at 'seven swans a-swimming'.
When we arrived, among those already there were Jim and Maria; cue Maria and me having our usual kiss and bear hug. We had a long time to wait till we got a lane, but we weren't at a loose end : there was a huge fuck off buffet with chicken wraps, chicken legs, cheese and pickle brown rolls, lots of sossies and ENDLESS peanuts, followed by oodles of chocolate biscuits and three massive gateaux. Even when I'd had a heaping plateful, Margaret the Basingstoke Mayoress urged me to bog in for seconds - "it's all got to be eaten". Meanwhile I developed a strong liking for Castlemaine XXXX, a beer I'd never tried before but that was on sale here at £1 a bottle.
When we got a lane, my mother, who was first up, exhibited her plastered left hand (even though she bowls with her right) and invoked the right to use the disabled player's chute. She put her first ball in the gutter and played without the chute for most of the rest of the night - though on her second go she stepped over the foul line. On each the first two ends, I bowled a pair of gutter balls :( I got better after that, but despite Peter urging me every end "You're going to get a strike now" I never managed more than seven in an end, totalling 56. I at least wasn't our worst performer - Michelle limped home with 50. Peter was our star, racking up 87, but John had his moment of glory, getting two strikes.
At the end of the evening, the only placings they announced were first and last, winning bottles of bubbly and big wooden skittles respectively. We were neither. Peter did win a bottle of bubbly on the raffle, so as Michelle pointed out, we didn't go home empty-handed :)
More Christmas sing-alongs on the way back - we even got Arron joining in when it came to 'Merry Christmas Everybody', then at the end when I did a Noddy Holder yell of 'It's CHRIIIII-STMAAAAAAS!' Arron yelled 'It's OCTOOOOO-BEEEEERRR!' Then on 'I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day' Arron sang 'I wish it could be Christmas in October'! John was the last to crack; he joined in with the very last track, 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas'.
Michelle then handed me the task of writing a poem about our evening's exploits for the Town Hall staff newsletter - I agreed, but asked her to give me a week...
Yesterday morning we had perfect nibbles from my point of view - just red grapes and red apples. Seeing me tucking into a rosy red, Sarah #1 said approvingly "Nice healthy apple there, Wilhelmus. Good on you."
After work I was due to go round Hardcore Sue's at five, but got to Stubbington at half past three. I didn't have enough dosh for the Red Lion, the chippy didn't open until five, and although there was a lad behind the counter of the kebab shop, the front door was locked. Plus it was absolutely pissing down. Thank goodness for my Hampshire Week Bus Pass - I took the bus to Fareham and dived for Burger King. After I'd eaten I milled around the shops, leafing through books and next week's TV listings mags and admiring Kylie's and Madonna's calendars until it was time to get the bus to Stubs.
Arrived at Hardcore Sue's dead on five :) James spent the whole evening working out upstairs, so Sue and I passed a very enjoyable couple of hours getting merry on cans of Stella and reminiscing about her wedding, college days and old friends, and agreeing that Madonna had done a great thing giving baby David a chance of a good life - and he was in an orphanage so no-one can moan. When I told Sue about my experiences at the Gosport Festival this summer, Sue optimistically reckoned I was on a winner with Miss K2...
Today was Jackie's last day at work. That was my downfall, as she brought in loads of goodies for us, including a box of gorgeous butter biscuits - over the course of the shift I helped myself to half a dozen. I even sampled quite a few liquorice allsorts as well. Oh dear.
Good news when I arrived home - my pay slip had come in the post, and with all the extra shifts I did over the summer, this month I'm taking home a cool £696. At last my relationship with Mistress Overdraft will soon be over - for good this time, I hope.
Just an hour to go till the return of Catherine Tate :D
