The Lady in the Red Hat in Aldi ©
By Michael Casey
Well the Arthur pain has subsided, and I’ve just had my
constitutional walk up to the clock and then to the shops and home. It’s such a
relief now that Arthur has calmed down. Mind you my surgery scars were a double
bastard last night, it was kinky sex club again, as far as my neighbours were
concerned. Me, screaming in pain, the
slightest touch and I scream, or they just throb and make me scream. I hope I’m
not putting anybody off heart surgery now. Then there was the Police helicopter
overhead at 2.30am, no doubt looking for the murder happening.
So I was in Aldi, there was this really nice red hat,
and it was worn by a nice old lady, with arthritic hands. So we got talking, I
do hate behaving as if at a funeral while in a queue for my veg and chicken. So
accost anybody who’ll listen. The red hatted lady mentioned Joan Bakewell reading
her book on the radio, only she just made
the red hatted lady’s daughter get depressed. So mum, or the red hatted
lady just told her daughter to switch it off.
So we continued our conversation as the conveyor belt
edged forward, and my packet pancakes wobbled and fell over. I did tell Mrs Red
Hat that I liked her hat, I added that my daughter had a black hat that made her
look like a young Jewish girl, and my other daughter wore a hoody and a woolly
hat indoors which reminded us of the Pakistani child in East is East.
We also touched on late night radio comedy not being
funny, I said it was an alternative to comedy, ie. It was not funny. I did
mention that somethings were for the ears and should be heard and not read out.
I mentioned Maeve Binchy’s Times letters
which I found to be much better if I read them aloud to myself.
So that was about the extent of our conversation, I did
of course tell her to google me, michaelgcasey, and if she has I hope she is
smiling as she reads this. That’s if she’s not busy booking Romeo and Juliet, I
did mention Ballet to her of course. So that’s all my news for today. I have
decided to forgo Twitter, it’s more likely I’ll find a producer/publisher in
the queue at Aldi than on the bird table that is Twitter.
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