If finally happened...!

At last, after 30-odd years, it happened. Let me explain...

I was at the supermarket on Monday, the Coles in Kings Cross. And only because the Wollies in Potts Point was closed in the morning for renovations. I gathered my items, dithered a bit, and then went to the checkout. The woman at the checkout, I noticed as she started scanning my stuff, had a nametag on her breast that said "Pat". I nearly had to be stretchered out, and even now, a couple of days later I get the giggles just thinking about it.

(For those who don't know, there's a Benny Hill sketch along these exact lines. He looks at the nametag, pauses, then looks at the camera. That's it. When I first met A our shared love for this sketch, its economy and perfection, was a powerful bond.)

Cloud

My younger son took this on Friday night while we were watching Number One Son playing cricket. My phone vanishes for a while, then comes back. A few days later I look through what's there.. a weetbix in a bowl, a foot, some wallpaper. And, in this case, a cloud.

Art School

I was on my way to meet a friend for coffee this morning, walking past the so-called National Art School, when I passed two women talking. The younger one said to the older one in exasperation:

"But Mum, it's Art School, noone wears anything"

Phone.

As the weekend wore on I became more and more despondent. I'd mope about feeling sorry for myself; I'd walk around dragging my feet. I was miserable. "Why?", I can hear you ask...

Well, I'd been brought abruptly face-to-face with the realisation that nobody likes me. "Huh?", you ask, "but isn't your life at the moment one long, glorious picnic?".

That's what I thought too. But on the weekend I felt shunned.. spurned... at one point late Sunday afternoon I worked out that I'd sent texts to 8 people that day and only one of them had replied (she called back, but I said I was in too bad a mood to go out). And on Saturday... same. I had made plans to have lunch with a very good old friend of mine but when I texted to confirm.. nothing. And on it goes. I wore my "I judge you when you use poor grammar" t-shirt all day.

Now, just to clarify, it's not like I did nothing all weekend. I went to a fabulous and strange pool party on Friday night and then got an unexpected call from a new friend who needed someone to talk to, which resulted in me having a very pleasant drink on a balcony overlooking the harbour. And on Saturday I got a new bed and I played tennis. But it's not enough.

Early Sunday evening I ran into a friend (the one I call Neighbor Girl) and I asked her to send me a text... nothing. She tried again... nothing.

I fixed my phone. When I say fixed, what I mean is that I turned it off, opened up the back, took the battery and the sim card out and then put it all back together. And, sure, enough, messages! My balance has been restored!

Name.

On a dating site I'm on I got a message from someone called 'Piscesbutterflychick'. She seems fine but I couldn't possibly respond to someone with a name like that. Someone (and that's not going to be me) should tell her to tone it down a bit.

In the same vein, I once helped a woman friend of mine by getting her to remove all the references to her cat from her dating profile. It worked.