Thursday, 21 February 2008
We’ve at work watching a blue movie. The woman in the movie is middle-aged and looks a bit like Hillary Clinton. She is clearly bored with her young and energetic tattooed lover, and as the camera zooms in on her face we can tell she is trying to decide whether to get up and walk away or suddenly throw herself into it and enjoy the fuck of a lifetime. It’s like we’re sitting on a bus travelling through London, and while I have been distracted for a second or two, the old man sitting opposite has slipped you a note saying that he knows you, that he knows your father, that he’d like to buy you an ice-cream. I read the note and stare hard into his face but he just stares back with a typically confident big granddaddy grin. And as the bus slows down to a stop you ask me: do we make a break for it now or just go along with the old bugger?