Sunday, March 15, 2009

Girl on a train

I have a dear, dear friend of long standing and occasionally featured on these pages, AJ. Every now and again she takes to calling me and whingeing about how old she is and how bits of her are falling off, sagging and/or not working properly anymore. She has always been given to over-exaggeration about the ravages of time upon her person and these sleights against herself I take with a bucket of salt, notwithstanding the fact that a) I haven't seen her for the best part of a decade and b) a decade most of which she spent flogging bits of Dubai to Premiership footballers. In Dubai. She likes the sun.

Earlier this afternoon she called me while waiting for a train and mentioned her new hair cut and once again to moan about the acres of spare flesh she's having to deal with. I cut her short. I don't believe you, I said and in interweb parlance, no good without pictures. Rather surprisingly she said she would send me a picture there and then. This was a genuine development; I've been asking the same thing of her for months. A minute later I opened the message and yes indeed, there was a picture:

AJ can, bless her, be spectacularly blonde. I think the thing at the bottom right is probably her knee. When she called back, I asked her to next time turn the phone round and stare into the little round thing. We did several LOLs at which point she admitted that she'd just got off the train while it was waiting and shouted a request of the driver as to whether it was the Amersham one and the reason she didn't get a reply was that she realised she'd been speaking to his reflection. No, I can't work that one out either. I still haven't received a picture.

5 Vegetable peelings:

Blogger Vicus Scurra said...

I like friends like this. So much more gratifying than sane ones.

6:13 pm  
Blogger Richard said...

I could be charitable about her and say it's the effect of ten years in the desert sun but she's been like it ever since I've known her. There's always an icebreaker with her but by the same token there's nearly always something, like this, able to bring intelligent conversation to a staggering and inevitably bemused halt. Sometimes there just isn't an answer. But she's dreadful fun.

6:57 pm  
Blogger Rog said...

So she must look like the driver of the Amersham Train?

11:50 am  
Blogger Richard said...

No, apparently it was a reflection of the driver. I obviously missed some detail somewhere along the line, probably while laughing.

12:37 pm  
Blogger R said...

Hmmm... I appear to have a clone!

7:21 pm  

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