During the terrible Hebridean floods, which brought down hundreds of buildings, I met two honeymooning couples from China.
‘Where can we find a divorce lawyer?’ one of the foursome asked me.
‘Why would you need one of those?’ I asked. To me the two couples appeared utterly devoted.
‘Because we married the wrong partners. We were obliged to come on holiday as a foursome so that each real couple could be together’.
‘I’m looking forward to your paper in Newcastle on Saturday’ said my colleague from Engineering.
‘I don’t think so’ I replied. ‘I’m off to Loughborough this weekend’.
Then I checked my diary. I had double-booked myself and now had just two days to write my presentation for Newcastle. (I wouldn’t be going to Loughborough after all.)
My next problem was to work out how to retrieve my stolen laptop and all the notes that I now needed to put my presentation slides together.
I had a day out with Belle in London.
First she took me to the museum café where she treated me to a raspberry and ice cream fruit sundae. I ate it seated next to a Dane who told me that he was hoping to meet some top UK government officials to discuss agricultural policy. When a big party of men in suits arrived to take the big table next to us, we knew exactly who they were.
Meanwhile Belle had disappeared into the toilets with a stranger. When the pair of them returned I could not tell which of the two was Belle. Was this a mystery twin? No, here was a neighbour who specialised in Belle impersonations.
On our way home in a black cab I allowed Belle’s three month old daughter to sleep across my chest.
Now a world-famous actor earning millions, AO was hot news for all the tabloids and celebrity magazines.
It dawned on me that I could earn a small fortune by selling to the press the photographs that I kept of this friend of mine in my own collection.
The best way to avoid the job of painting the new staff common room was to arrive on campus dressed in a suit.
I also had a good excuse that would get me out of this unconventional academic duty: I needed to pop over to Belgium to attend a graduation ceremony with my family to collect my degree.
I therefore popped a bottle of white wine in the office fridge for the later celebrations of the redecorated room, then set off for the Channel Tunnel on my bike.
Following three decades of no contact, during which one of us had moved to California, I was reunited with my school friend JB. Although we had never been best buddies, our friendship stretched back to infant school. Now that she was back in the UK to visit old haunts (including her old Oxford college), I was determined to see her.
The years had not changed JB. However, I barely remembered her husband, who had also been at school with us. I couldn’t help noticing his resemblance to Joe Keery, the actor who plays Steve Harrington in Stranger things. I was just one of many who had already pointed this out to him.
I clung on for dear life in the front passenger seat as my mother drove like a maniac along the Roman roads. She was showing off to FR, who was sitting in the back of the Volvo. My last attempt to persuade her against taking even more dangerous manoeuvres was to invent the narrative that I would be forced to relate if/when she caused a serious accident (provided that I survived it, of course).
Eventually we reached the hotel at our final destination (still intact). We recognised some of the couples with small children who were checking out. We’d met them before at DT-J’s wedding. They admitted that they had spent the weekend with D and K, celebrating their wedding anniversary. I felt a bit aggrieved not to have been invited to the party myself.
My sister J and I shared the same wedding day. One would be married in the afternoon, and the other in the evening.
The vodka jellies to be served to our guests were less appetising after I watched a waiter stick his finger into one.
I was also rather disturbed by H’s uninvited declarations of love, especially since I had only met him twice before in my life. How did he know so much about me?
The Edinburgh tram line extension stretched all the way to Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
I sat at the front of the vehicle with a Chinese man, his baby and his toddler. He was very impressed with the at-seat baby changing facilities.
TPR believed that he had magic powers, so when he shot himself seven times with an air rifle he didn’t expect to be hurt.
I was beside myself when the operator told me that the ambulance crew refused to treat my emergency call as an urgent case.
Dreamaticus 