I’m crabby today. I would totally understand if you decided not to read any further. Go on…leave while you can.
Still here? Okay, you asked for it.
I’ve got toothache, resulting from a two-year battle with my wisdom teeth. Earlier today I treated myself to a large helping of banoffee pie (is that how you spell it?). I felt like rewarding myself for finally getting my hair cut. My mother complained I looked like a ‘poet’, my hair was so long. Where this phrase originates from, I have no idea. I’ve seen pictures of Byron, Keats, Wordsworth and Lindsay Black. All of these magnificent poets have short hair. Mine was more unkempt rather than long. Anyway, I got it cut. I went to Lee, my local Chinese barber, whose shop is called Wonderful Barber. Nothing like a little self-confidence to boost business, is there? Anyway, he’s the bees knees when it comes to the cutting of the hair. I was in and out in less than ten minutes.
I was saying to Lee that I got a summons from The Criminal Courts of Justice, obliging me to turn up for jury service on 12 April. He asked what that meant. I explained that I was to make myself available for jury selection. He asked if I was in trouble with the law. I said no, but I could tell he didn’t really understand the system of facing a jury of your peers and having them decide your fate. I resisted the urge to remind him that in his home country of China there is no such system. China simply executes their criminals or bangs them up for zillions of years, all without a trial. I wanted to – but I like my ears where they are. Anyway, Lee is not at fault for what his government gets up to.
Where was I?
Yes, I got toothache from eating a dessert treat. Bummer! I will have to get my wisdom teeth seen to, sooner or later. I’ve numbed the pain with Solpadeine and Nurofen Plus, graciously donated to me by the beautiful Mary. Her medicine cabinet knows no equal. (Mine just has Alkaseltzer.) I’m waiting for a lottery win or my next Credit Union loan to finally get my mouth seen to. Years of alcohol and drug abuse have left my teeth and gums in dire need of an overhaul, and I can’t afford to meet my adoring public in the very near future (book signings, TV appearances) looking like Shane MacGowan from The Pogues.
Until then, though, I’ll make do with painkillers.