After my self-loathing trip to Westfield, I am staying local. I am Milly Molly Mandy going up the village shop. Yearn for Fatso's. I don't remotely know why.
While he is scanning my white sliced in stony silence, I comment that he has got to stop cracking all these jokes and let me get a word in edgeways, I mean I love a chat and everything but.....
He looks scared again.
The only crumbs I can treasure is the deep meaningful (and only) conversation I had with him last week. His watery puffed-up eyes had looked into mine and he said: Look, I do not know Danny Boyle, I have never worked with Danny Boyle, I didn't even know who Danny Boyle was till this bloody film came out. I have never been, nor am I likely to be, in any sort of film. I am not that useless fat policeman in this Slumdog thing that you seem to think I am . Neither have I been to Bombay or Mombay or whatever the Hell they call it now. Nor would I. My family are from Pakistan!
I tell him that was a great pitch and was he setting his sights on Oliver Stone or Tarrantino now. He seemed to sit down heavily. He wasn't used to all those long words. He wasn't used to words at all actually.
The phone goes. I tell him that could be Danny for him now with a new script. I think I saw tears.
11 comments:
count yourself lucky, love, our Post Office Man regularly steals 40 mins of my life at a stretch, whining about hedges in Spain and his medication (a cliche, but true) or all the complaints he recieves. Came here via Dave.
by which I mean receives. d'oh.
I hope to be back in London this summer. Closer to that time you'd better be prepared to stump up the address of this shop because I want to get my photo taken with Fatso.
Me too!
You should be careful. He'll post a 'look-out' on the corner of the street and the next time you turn up there'll be a 'CLOSED' sign on the door...
Am laughing my paws off...
"He looks scared again..."
hee hee hee
"I think I saw tears..."
(Henry laughing out loud)
Jennysmith, what have you done to my bloody dog? Ever seen a dog with a fit of the giggles. No, me neither - until now!
Hi Jenny, great story!
Word verification 'sublyt' made to measure for me I think!
I think Fatso's bro must have been running the shop that used to be in the little parade near to my London flat. No matter the pleasantries I threw at FB (Fatso's bro - do keep up) I never got a smile, a comment - zilch; yet his shop was so handy for bits and pieces.
Anyway, where we are the shops close at around 7pm, do not open on a Sunday, some shut for a 2hr lunchbreak. Give thanks for a corner-shop running Fastso's everywhere
x
oops, I am the typo queen
Just spotted your blog. Love the deadpan humour.
Hello Milla, thanks for visiting and your nice comments. Yes, there was a post office woman in Father in laws' remote Welsh village who could keep you there for hours. The trick was to have the right money because you would never get your change back without a monologue. Or wait till there was a delivery!
Hi Dave. So you're coming back to homeground eh? Which i assume is Dagenham. Dudley Moore came from there - i expect you knew that. But don't worry, Fatso is such a cheap type and there's plenty more where HE came from! As Level 42 sang: There must be one like her(!) in every town!
anyway, Dave and Dotterell, the way Fatso's career is soaring, you might have to settle for some publicity shots - or a Still outside the cinema (do they do that anymore?)
Hi Henry. Bless you. Don't think i've ever seen a dog laugh either! And Hi Henry's mum, thanks for your sweet comment, hope things are goin well for you at the moment.
Hi Sub, my sweet, thank you for reading and complimenting my bitter and twisted scribblings. Hope you are well.
And you too FF sweetie. Yes, as i commented above, there are a hundred Fatsos. A bit like Wasps or Daleks really. And Gosh, i got 1971 then when you said about the shops closing early and that. I have to say I take that sort of thing for granted now.
Thank you Chairman Bill for visiting and your nice comments. What an amazingly posh blog you have. Will get stuck into that - i tell you!
xxxxxx
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