What a miserable existence I have at the moment. A life on the streets. The life I have now come to embrace.
I'm basically sodding off out while Estate Agents bring round potential buyers to see our hovel. Everyone hates our house. Its obvious. Their restrained look of horror as they politely look at the overgrown garden. Trying not to itch to get away. I am so embarassed. So I flee. Its better that way.
I pound the streets, lonely and bereft of warmth. I see my haggard reflection in oily puddles. I seek refuge in the slums of Strawberry Hill. My nose pressed up against an abandoned Estate Agent's window. Hoping against hope that a kindly old Jewish man will take me in and teach me how to pick pockets and that. And then i would light the first of 3 matches in the cold and brutal snow... oh, hang on. Never was that strong at the classics. Always did get them mixed up.
There was only one place for people like me on the way down. The only direction down for the likes of us. And that was a cafe near Strawberry Hill station that does Thai food for £4.95 - a choice of rice or egg noodles and an extra topping of cashew nuts. AND a free read of the Daily Mail. Yes, being desolate is not all bad.
Return home through the wind and the rain, coming back for a fag and checking on the cat, before the next viewer comes along. And this time , its the Launderette. They have Hello magazine in there........
13 comments:
What a bargain! Makes me hungry jujst reading about that cafe.(Mind you, it'd take something as good as that to tempt me to read the DM!)
Mum says that sounds delish. It is one thing she's looking forward to returning to the UK for - good chinese, thai and indian food at reasonable prices. They don't have them where we live here in France. You sound miserable. Wish we could cheer you up. Mum's miserable too and so is Uncle Hugh. Maybe it's that time of year? xxx
Oh yes, D, that Facist rag as my Husband calls it. I couldn't stomach it actually, ended up reading a People's Friend.
Thats a date then , Henry, will meet your mum and Dotterel down there for a slap up lunch about 12 noon next week (you name a day). You know the place, its the one on the corner. Dotterel will bring his own Guardian and your mum can bring a mag of her choice and I will bring Viz magazine.
Trouble is, i don't know their policy on dogs. You may miss out.
Yes, we're all miserable. Do you remember that song by Pilot? January, sick and tired, you've been hanging on me......... Well,those great lyrics sum it all up. xxxxxx
I'd join you as well, although I'm learning how to 'do' oriental cuisine myself - without those jars of ready made sauces. It's therapy really, away from these bleedin' essays.
I'd much prefer to look round a house without the owner being there. You know,they stand there saying things like 'and this is the kitchen' and it's clear they would rather be a million miles away and you feel a bit inhibited
Is there not an afternoon movie you could catch somewhere? Then you could tie in all the viewings with the cinema showings.
x
I'd be strip searching them at the door to make sure they didn't have mobile phones on them. The last thing I'd want would be people getting pictures of the inside of my bloody toilet!
You poor thing.
Go to the pub!
Mum remembers that song, it's a bit before my time:) Wish we could meet up, but I'm on hols next week and so is mum. She says she's going to 'push the boat out' (thought she didn't like boats) and indulge something rotten because it may be her last holiday in a LONG time xx
I've decided I'm going to die in this house - I couldn't go through that again. I love the way people comment about the decor (and the state of it) as if you weren't there! You're best off out of it.
What a shame you chose winter to put yourself up for this. Bad planning there, Jen.
Every cloud has a silver lining I guess, you poor thing! Good luck with the sale, it's a stressful time.
Yes, it's a shame it's not summer, but I think that it's still a better option than showing them around yourself. It's always a bit awkward, I think. Whenever we've sold a house, I've always had to do most of the showing round and had to show a man around by myself, on one occasion. Never thought much of it, until we got to the bedrooms, then I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Hope you get a buyer soon!
Oh Jenny ! ! !
I wish I lived near you so I could give you a big hug.
I know it's hard but please try and be positive. Your house will sell and you'll soon find your dream home.
XXXXX
PS can I come and join you all for lunch. Promise I won't bring the Daily Mail - how does Good Housekeeping magazine sound.
Thank you everyone for your lovely supportive comments. Seems we all think the same way about selling houses and all the frack that goes with it.
Don't worry, henry, it was just a lovely fantasy. We;ll have lunch in spirit instead. Not sure I could see you stuck outside while we stuffed our faces - tho' i suppose we could sit the other way - only joking xx Have a lovely holiday.
Do you know that Elizabeth Taylor short story where her and this bloke have been penfriends for a long time and are virtually soulmates and then they meet for lunch - and its a complete disaster. They don't know what to talk about or anything. And as soon as he leaves, she writes him this fantastic letter. Well, that could be us.
Mind you, Marie, if you've got Good Housekeeping, i think you should come round now! Sod Elizabeth Taylors morals. Haven't read that for ages. yes, i wish you lived nearer too. could do with a hug actually. the cat's not the same really.
It would be interesting to know what magazine or paper people would bring to our fantasy lunch. What about you, Suburbia, MMM and FF and Elaine?
Good suggestion about the pub by the way, Elaine but you can't smoke in 'em anymore. doesn't feel so welcomin now.
Thanks for dropping by again, Scriptor, yes, i will definitely apply that to the next house, i tell you. God Grief, S, how many blogs do you have? I struggle running this one! I take my hat off to you
xxxxxxxxx
I'd probably bring our weekly Guardian International, always covered with food blobs and blotches because we do the crossword (sometimes anyway)whilst having lunch. If I'm not dropping food down my front them I'm dropping it on to the paper.
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