Conversations this morning

Because we’ve been specializing in bizarre today:

Motley crew of characters I drive into work with most mornings:

Me – a passenger

Person in the car #1 (P1) – the driver

Person in the car #2 (P2) – another passenger

Conversation One

Me: “I think it should be illegal to have to get out of bed on days like this. Or the sofa with a duvet. I’d be quite happy to work if I could do it from the comfort of my sofa with a duvet and a cup of hot chocolate, not going into some stinking portakabin.”

P2: “Well get some of the easy chairs and take them into the PM’s office and shut the door.”

Me: “But I don’t have a duvet….. Can we stop at Tesco in Carmarthen on the way?”

Cue laughter

P2: “In fact, you could lock the door if people are disturbing you too much and make loud grumpy noises at them when they knock on the door.”

Me: “Yeah! I also need a collection of stress balls I can throw at the door so they make a satisfying thunk but won’t hurt when they rebound and hit me on the head.”

Because seriously, that’s what would happen if I decided to live this scenario.

Conversation Two

On passing a lorry stating it was a “Milk, Cheese and Egg Merchant”.

Me: “I miss the days when being a Merchant really meant something. I know I wasn’t alive when being a Merchant really meant something, but still… I miss those days. When you had a boat or a few boats and you traded in things and there were busy, dirty docks, your life was lived on the water and it was all industrialized y’know. ”

P1: “Yes they’re more distributers these days aren’t they?”

A pause ensues whereby I ponder in my head rather than out loud as to whether or not at 30 something dramatically changes inside and you become a member of the grumpy party. As I get closer to 30 I realize that I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about when things were different or I’m ever so slightly more intolerant of something. I’ve started to think this is dangerous. Papers on a Sunday morning and babies (my sister’s baby – steady now) are an attractive prospect, sometimes more so than dancing and a night out.

I remain mostly unperturbed though; since I spent quite a lot of time on a see saw this weekend. I figure as long as I’m mentally five things will be okay.

Conversation Three

On arriving behind a transit van which boasted, “David A. Snickery Limited: Roofing and Restoration Specialist.”

P1: “Hmmmm, he’s a specialist, not even a Merchant, or a distributer but a Specialist. But what is he a specialist in?”

Me, in a humorous smart alecky tone : “Well, roofing and restoration…”

P1: “Restoration of what though? Roofs? Buildings? Garden Machinery? Fine Art?”

Me: “Morris Minors? (since we had just driven past two)”

P1 laughing: “Yes, Morris Minors?”

Me: “Dustbins? People? Picture frames? Statues?”

More giggling and wondering over Mr. Snickery’s restoration abilities.

Me: “Perhaps he’s a Goblin Hunter! David A. Snickery Limited: Goblin Hunter.”

P1: “How do you get to Goblin Hunter?”

Me: “Well, if he’s a statue restorer and the Goblins have been gobbling the statues* then he’ll have to catch the Goblins in order to restore the statue.”

“Goblins, can be a pain in the arse you know. If you’re a statue. And you have an arse.” I say with some authority.

P1: “Most statues I know have an arse. Since most statues are of people and everyone I know has an arse.”

Me: “Well you never know – they may have had a prosthetic arse…”

And that Ladies and Gentlemen is why you should either a) feed me coffee or b) let me sleep in the mornings. Otherwise I shall babble on about merchants, goblins and prosthetic arses mindlessly for an hour and a quarter.

P2 has also offered to be my agent once I’ve written the 7 book series about Mr. David A. Snickery: Goblin Hunter.

 

*This is an old one. We drive past a war memorial statue every day and it has been boarded up for the past year at least. Quite often P1 muses at the reasons for this to which I always reply, “I’ve told you! The Goblins are gobbling it!”

This is normally followed by an eye roll from P1, but hey! It’s my imagination and it keeps me company.

 

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