Wed 25th Feb 2009

There is a popular brand of confectionary I am still unable to face. Last year my mate Al came round and we watched "50 Greatest Television Dramas". I cannot recall whether it was whilst Scum, Cracker, Our Friends In The North or Prime Suspect that was being analysed in the countdown when Al offered me a Fruit Pastille. I began to explain to him about a time I had been with my parents visiting my Nan and was preparing to leave. She was out of the room and so we had to wait for her return so we could bid our farewells. When she eventually returned to the room she bent over to pull open one of the drawers to her dresser to give me an obligatory tube of Blackcurrant Pastilles. I don't think Blackcurrant Pastilles were really available in the mainstream Newsagents, but please allow a moment to become acquainted to the concept. They're basically a tube of Fruit Pastilles but just ALL the Blackcurrant ones. I think you'll agree that they sound absolutely amazing. And indeed they were. So much so, that before out car journey home had ended, I had already scoffed a good two thirds of them. It was only then that I spotted a small, thin line of moist brown goo down the wrapping of the packet. It didn't take me long to realise that my Nan was out of the room having a shit before we left and had not taken the chance to wash her hands. This, I explained to Al, is why I can no longer eat Fruit pastilles.

"How did you know what it was?" Al enquired, "Did you smell it?"

For a brief moment, telling the truth became a bit of a dilemma. But then, if I'd said no, I knew he would inevitably tell me that it was time to get over my paranoid fear and enjoy one of his glazed chewy delights. After all, how could I ever be confident in my conclusion of the particular specimen all those years ago? But saying no wasn't the truth. I concluded that at least by admitting that I'd once had my curious nose perched centimetres away from my own Grandmother's poo, I had somehow participated in a real Modernist act that could be considered as a smashing-down of some sort of taboo. Maybe it was or maybe it wasn't. The only definite conclusion I can take away from the incident is that I am not keen on Fruit Pastilles.