LF drove the car at 30 mph in one of the new Edinburgh 20 mph zones.
PS shrieked at her to slow down – not least because she was frightening our gorilla passenger.
LF drove the car at 30 mph in one of the new Edinburgh 20 mph zones.
PS shrieked at her to slow down – not least because she was frightening our gorilla passenger.
JS and her cycling friends founded a choir. Their uniform comprised navy blue velvet dresses adorned with huge 1980s bows.
Worse, however, was the ‘music’. None of choir members could sing.
As soon as TPR was out of the picture, my tall dark friend moved in. He pointed to his earpiece and warned me to be very careful: my entire life was being bugged.
Not long afterwards I match-maked my two Swedish-speaking friends. They fell into a pit of sand, visited some ancient civilisations, and returned home in the Tardis.
The world had reverted back to 1989. I needed a doctor’s appointment for the diagnosis of my left eye, which was now completely red, including the iris.
The man at reception suggested that I pay £50 for an evening consultation with the hotel doctor. I couldn’t wait that long so requested a copy of the Yellow Pages so that I could look up a local medical practice.
The plan was to make an appointment by telephone using my mobile phone. But then I remembered that it was 1989 (hence the Yellow Pages) and I didn’t yet own the technology to make cellphone calls.
RA and his new bride Catherine could not believe my cheek. I only asked if I could come to their wedding and leave half way through so that I could reach DT and KJ in time for the 6pm start of their own marriage celebrations.
Their refusal of my request meant that I wouldn’t have the opportunity of seeing JG, AR or PS on the big day.
Everyone was queuing up to enter the Dream Booth in pairs. It was all rather chaotic so I took charge of the sequencing.
I instantly regretted this decision. I should have ignored everyone else and gone first for the best chance of remembering my dreams.
TPR emerged from the booth with a grim look on his face.
‘I now understand what it is to be a woman’, he announced.
I couldn’t wait to climb into the booth myself and discover why to be a man was so much better.
SF liked to show off his false leg. Fashioned from bone, it extended from his right knee. We all felt sick whenever he stood up on it, then flicked his foot to face the wrong direction.
Naturally I wanted to know the flavours of the vol-au-vents. I asked the waiter.
“Lavender avocado and Kit-Kat popcorn, Madam.”