#29

It's been a day of telephone calls. First Steve(12 mins 42s); then Mum (4mins 59s); then Verity (7 mins 21s) and finally the doctor (2 minutes 03 seconds).

Steve brings more grief. He's convinced his wife and brother are planning to run away together. Apparently he overheard a late night telephone conversation between the two of them. His wife was drunk and naked in the bathroom, crying hysterically into the cordless phone. He said that when she finally emerged, she looked like “a charcoal sketch that had been left out in the rain.” I had the distinct feeling he was lingering on, waiting for me to suggest we meet or that he comes over. I didn't. The last thing I need right now is a Princess with a tragedy.

Mum, well it pains me just typing out those three letters. There's really not much more to be said there. Though at least she didn't hang on long enough to influence a bowel movement.

As per usual, Verity huffed a lot of hot wind down the phone. Then just as I was about to lay the receiver on its side and go and do something interesting, she said: “I've news concerning John! Good news. I think there could be a breakthrough!” Of course, she also has this thing about never revealing good news over the phone and so she used that as a way of inviting herself around for dinner on Friday. That means I'll need to do a shop. All that's in the fridge at the moment is one shrivelled Weiner sausage and a vegetable box full of mould. That she's vegan will put my culinary skills to the test. From what I understand it means she only eats cardboard.

The call to Dr Dennis actually started out as a joke. I sometimes do that, make prank calls to the emergency services. I was intending to send him out somewhere across London to resuscitate a man who died three years ago. But after the first word that left my mouth the secretary blurted: “Oh, Mr. Spencer! you must be phoning concerning the renewel of your prescription. It's for tomorrow isn't it?” I listened as she tapped her pencil along each calender square, counting. “YYEESS” we both said at the same time. I stopped to allow her to go.
“Shall I go?” she giggled.
Me: Silence
“Mr Spencer???”
Me: “FFFrrrrpppp”
“...Er, ok then..” she faltered, completely unaware I had just farted down the line “Yes, we're quite correct, it is for tomorrow. Now what would you prefer, morning or afternoon?”
“FFFrrrrppp.”
“...rry I didn't quite make that out?” she said
“FFFRRRRPPPPP ffffrrrr PPPfff!”
“...ha ha ha.. No, sorry I still didn't catch it. I'll tell you what Mr Spencer, you come in for whatever time best suits you, OK? The Doctor will se....” And on that drivel I slammed the phone down, cracking the plastic of the handset.

So that's it! Tomorrow (morning or afternoon) I have another appointment with Dr. Dennis. God, if this carries on he'll end up convincing me I'm ill.

5 comments:

  1. O . OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO - OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo -

    OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO - OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo -

    OoOoOoOoOoOoO . OoOoOoOoO - OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO .

    OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO - OoOoOoOoOoOoOo . OoOoOoOoO

    OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO .

    OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO - O - OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I can help you with the vegan thing.

    I have lots of friends with the same eating disorder.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Cooking for a vegan is a moral battle. But with these tips, you and your guest will emerge victorious.

    Lentils.

    Because lentils are un-fuck-up-able. They don't have to be soaked before hand, you can cook them without fussing. You can cook them while you are out of your mind.

    French green lentils have an unearthly color that ought to force vegans to rethink their life-choices. ("I am a vegan, and I am eating baby shit.") They're also full of fiber to prepare you for the next time your mother calls.

    A half-cup of dry lentils ought to do for two people. Any time one cooks for a vegan, it is imperative that the meal ends with everyone still hungry. It is a profound moral failure for a vegan to ever sate her hunger.

    Do not help her fall into that pit!

    Just pick through the dry lentils to make sure there are no pebbles (depending on how much you care about your guest and how good your dental plan is).

    Simmer for twenty minutes in enough vegetable stock to cover the lentils by a few inches - with a little minced onion, a spoonful or two of canned, diced tomato and a splash of dry white wine. (Unless you want it to be bland - to punish your friend for her dietary choices.)

    Vegans like to be punished. That's why they're vegans.

    In that case use water. Dingy tap water. Rust is a nice touch, if you can get it.

    Don't add the salt until the end - unless you want to punish her even further. Salt at the beginning will make the lentils tough.

    Finish with minced fresh parsley, a dash of salt and a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. This will make the food look nice and taste good. This may disconcert your vegan, but be strong!

    Serve with brown rice and a dollop of hummous if your guest is a lesbian.

    Straight people always prefer white rice and are suspicious of hummous.

    Bisexuals must never be offered rice in any form. Flatbread is your only option.

    Once the meal begins, it is important to compliment the vegan on how spiritually superior she is and how you wish to be like her, some day, when you have the moral strength.

    Once lulled in this manner, spring dessert on her:

    Tell her someone informed you that "veal is vegan, as long as it dies of ennui."

    This will allow her to rant at you for several minutes, burning up all the calories you provided with your scanty meal.

    Moral victory for everyone.

    Remember "Salad is murder."

    --The Flaming Chef

    ReplyDelete
  4. @ jaws: Did anyone decipher that? It's a warning in very simple code. X

    @ Jason: Oh thank you so much. Your happy vegan tips are hilarious! lentils seem so easy to cook... surely not even Mr. Spencer could fuck them up??? ;) X

    @ Mrs Winthrope: What is this soup obsession? And is that Warhol's jesus I see alongside your name? You do know that other than his rather innocent Soup paintings he also had many "piss paintings"? And not just his own... it seems half of New York was spraying pee around his apartment. My mother could have been of some use there. X

    ReplyDelete

 
Waiting for John. Citrus Pink Blogger Theme Design By LawnyDesignz Powered by Blogger