MY LIFE IN LIPPY AND LEOPARD PRINT
I seem to be spending quite a lot of time on trains at the moment. I don’t find the journeys themselves that much of a bind to tell you the truth, as long as I don’t have someone with BO sweating away next to me or if there’s no annoying toddler in the seat behind kicking me up my backside, un-reprimanded.
I can make good of the hours as the countryside and towns whistle past, by either reading or writing. As I’ve said on this blog before, earwigging is a major thing for me as a writer and wherever I go in t’north I pick up lots of tasty snippets of conversation in all sorts of places.
On the trip down to the London Book Fair on Tuesday morning this week, I had to change at Crewe of all places. I was there for a grand total of twelve short minutes, made delicious because of two lovely women I ‘overheard’.
The two ladies met up by the loos – as you do – one exclaiming to the other (who had a full ‘face’ on) ‘You look glam!’ to which her friend nodded and replied thus, ‘Yes, I rinsed out these trousers this morning and dried them on the radiator’.
I found this hilariously funny and moved on quickly lest they spy me sniggering and whipping out my notebook to write the exchange down.
I had to stuff my knuckles in my mouth when I sat in my back garden a couple of week ago listening to my (admittedly unsophisticated) neighbour talking to his mates.
‘Spiders can’t jump, you know.’
‘What d’you mean, they can’t jump?’
‘I’m telling you, they can’t because they’ve got no knees.’
‘How do they get around, then?’
(THINKS) ‘Well they’ve got loads of legs so it makes them go faster.’
‘Mind you our Lee used to have a tarantula. I used to get it stoned by putting a spliff in its tank.’
‘Yeah. It f**king well jumped then all right. Off its t*ts it was (LAUGHS – A LOT WHILE FRIEND LISTENS, INCREDULOUS) . I frigging love animals, me. I prefer them to people.’
You couldn’t make it up and although I do not condone cruelty to spiders in any way I found this highly comical too.
I’m not suggesting that us northerners are a joke cracking lot with little else to occupy our time, but when I’m in London I just don’t get the same quality material I’m used to back home.
At the London Book Fair for example, I mainly heard ‘I’ll have 3,00 of those’, ‘Portugese rights’ (a very popular one this year) or, my own personal favourite, ‘stupendous!’
Oh, and much air kissing.
I can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed that the south isn’t holding up its end in the unintentional comedy stakes…or am I wrong and simply noseying into the wrong conversations?
Broken, a collection of my short stories, is available on Amazon for Kindle now here