Given the unseasonably warm weather, I'm sitting outside Yoshi's Noodle Bar and Colonic Irrigation Centre enjoying a post all-nighter reviver.
As I'm taking in the rays, I start to muse upon some of the big questions in life. Why are we all here? Do blue men sing the whites? Is Carol Vorderman really good at sums or do they stop the tape while she gets her calculator out? As all this is swimming around my head, the mobile starts up somewhat breaking the moment. It's the manager, trying to ascertain my whereabouts.
He tells me that he's got good and bad news. Apparently, Old Cove has done his back in snowboarding and the feasibility study's gone on the back-burner. When I ask what the bad news is, he says that is the bad news. The good news is that I'm up for some award. Not before time I say and enquire which glittering occasion I'll be attending as I have a new companion I want to show off. He goes silent at this point and tells me to jump in a cab and get over to the PR company.
I pitch up to find Quentin looking more twitchy than usual. I ask him what the award is and after a lot of umming and ahhing I find out that it's the Saga Personality of the Month. As you can imagine, this isn't quite as rock and roll as I expected and to add insult, it's shared between me and someone called David Dickinson - a perma-tanned barrow boy who's apparently made a name for himself amongst the permanently-bewildered, selling old tat on the telly.
The deal is that they want to photograph me and tango-boy for the Saga 2006 calendar. Quentin tries to convince me that this is good for raising the old profile but the prospect of being a pin-up to a bunch of coffin-dodgers hardly fills me with breathless anticipation. He then ushers in a woman in tiny glasses and a large scarf who proceeds to wander around me tutting a lot. When I ask who the hell she is, he tells me that she's in charge of 'getting me up to scratch' for the photo shoot. Now all this might be OK for Sir Bob who hasn't got a career to worry about anymore but I have my adoring fans to consider. So I make a rapid exit leaving Quentin and Makeover Woman to their hair products.
In the sanctuary of the Lost Chord I reflect over a large JD on the grubby world of celebrity and decide that Carol Vorderman probably can add up in her head, she just doesn't have any dress sense.
So that's alright then.
2 comments:
Then we won't be seeing your SAGA pix on some tube fliers? Pity.
I knew someone who worked at the DHSS office where Carl Vordermann used to sign on between series of Countdown. Presumably that was in the early days.
Hey - I can wear a partially buttoned blouse and a push up bra, but you don't here me bragging about it. Mind you, I've never been able to carefully remove a PVC catsuit.
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