Not a very productive day today. In fact the only thing I have really achieved is a good old bleed. This is a consequence of my particularly poor shaving skills this morning, when I managed to cut the head off one of my neck moles. I blame this mishap on tiredness, having had to work a clubnight shift last night till the early hours of the morning. It followed a show by the 70’s pop entertainers The Nolans, most famous for their single “I’m in the Mood For Dancing” (rather ironic, given that it had been a fully seated concert. Our Health and safety regulations would not allow for dancing, irrespective of the audience’s mood).
Sadly The Nolans had a lot of equipment and the stage crew had their hands full, so in order to get the venue cleared ready for our clubnight, our staff had to chip in and carry all the catering stuff out of the venue for them. The burly security looked after the big flight cases full of catering equipment, whilst I took care of the baskets of ingredients and stock (interestingly, I couldn’t help noticing that none of the produce had actually been bought from Iceland – another illusion shattered!). It probably sounds as if I had the easy job, but if you’ve seen the size of The Nolans nowadays, you’ll appreciate just how much stock there was to contend with. It took stamina, believe you me.
This might sound like an easy tabloid-esque pot shot, putting unnecessary emphasis on physical attraction of women and their increased weight but don’t be offended, it is a shallow victory. Who, after all, is the real joke? Four women who got paid handsomely to entertain a sold out room, or a man in his early thirties who humps trays of food down the stairs, whilst continuing to nest an unused prophylactic in his wallet that he has failed to find a willing recipient for by its not-immodest expiration date?
Incidentally, I have just peeled my plaster off again and I am still bleeding even now. Will it ever heal? Honestly, if it carries on at this rate, I might as well think about starting my own range of man-made black pudding. Annoyingly, had this injury occurring yesterday, I could have made some sort of personalised black pudding offering to the ever-hungry Nolans who would probably appreciate it.
