I don’t mean to be rude but Cambridge smells of poo. Really and tru-ooly. Obviously I checked my ‘personal space’ and then the flat but when I went outside the poo smell got worse.
At the CAB offices I consult Gorgeous George the Computer Man.
‘George,’ I whisper. ‘Why does Cambridge smell…of..err so strangely..well of poo?’
George grimaces and in a hushed voice hisses, ‘It is to do with farming …silage …..in Holland. And wind current convection…wind.. you know..‘
(George is gorgeous to look at but a little nervous when it comes to small talk with large breasted ,computer illiterate, blondes..sadly)
‘Wind eh?’ I wink. He looks terrified. To sooth him I ask about double sided printing.
After a minute he suddenly, most bizarrely for George, leans in close. He looks almost tearful.
‘I am so glad you mentioned it..!’ he breathes.
I glance around at the rest of the poo smelling office. Not one person is acknowledging the reek. Not one wrinkled snout. Not one raised eyebrow. Good God…the British reserve. It makes me both proud and a tad nervous. Surely someone would raise a voice if this were toxic…write a stiff letter if this were atomic…surely?
I look again. Perhaps not.
Tonight I sob my way through ‘Beyond Boundaries’ BBC 2. I wasn’t sure about watching it but I am totally besotted with every one of the disabled teenagers crossing the Andes, literally, in some cases, with the skin of their teeth. After everything these incredible kids have had to go through in their lives they have managed to keep going to 4500mtrs and are nearly halfway. When they were hugged by a shaman in an Ecuadorian village. I reached for the gin. When Dale fell from the wheelchair injuring himself and Sean, oh lordy how wonderful is Sean, dropped his crutches to push the wheelchair up the mountain to the campsite I fell weeping to the floor.. I am up to my eyeballs researching equality and disability at the moment ..well what there is of it..(which ain't much boyo) and this lunatic documentary Is making me far too emotional..
Thank God for adverts. Did you know that Skoda make cars out of cake??? Cake goddamnnnn it!! Runs on golden syrup and jam and if you break down..which you, will you crazy hyperglycaemic fool, you can eat it. I love that advert. In a world where everything is sold on malice and greed, such a sweet clever delicious advert is so uplifting that I would buy a Skoda just because they made me smile so much.
As opposed to the car advert I think called the Toyota ‘Malice’, which is aimed at sociopath, sadistic OCD people and literally promotes destroying other peoples property and crushing their souls if in any way they scratch your Malice paintwork. If any potential date came to pick me up in a Toyota Malice I would run and hide in my cake Skoda.
And anyway I discovered the most marvellous thing any car can be equipped with. It was when I was in Toronto time before last..October and really cold and early and I leapt into Beautiful A’s car shivering and whimpering. We drove off and suddenly I became aware of a glorious sensation of warmth creeping up my thighs and bottom and into my lower back. I wasn’t sure what had happened…it didn’t feel wet…and I had not other explanation. A glanced at my strange expression and burst into hysterics.
‘It’s a seat warmer!’ She crowed delighted and appalled at my ignorance. A seat warmer.
My god. The bliss of a hot bottom on a cold day in a fast car on an autumn day. I tell you what. Toronto didn’t ever smell of poo…..