The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I got a long e-mail from Rudy about last night’s argument. It really wound me up, so I replied immediately. I told him I didn’t know anything about the inner workings of the world of stand-up comedy, I didn’t care about it, and I certainly wasn’t going to waste time talking about the subject, even if it put a friendship at risk. I’ve never written anything that direct before.On the way back to the house on Saturday, I ran into Daisy Mutlar. Oh God. Not a meeting I wanted. I nodded slightly as I passed. She pretended she hadn’t seen me. Back at home, Anya had messed up the washing and lost a sock. Very irritating. I told Carrie and she said “If you’ve got a problem, tell her yourself. I’m fed up with trying to drum it into her. If you’re quick, you can catch her before she goes.” I had a word, but she said there was only ever one sock in the laundry basket.
Gowing came into the hall as I was talking to Anya about the lost sock, and decided to intervene. “Don’t throw it out. It’d be a waste. Find a bloke with one leg and give it to him”. Anya started cackling like a moron. I couldn’t be bothered with any of it, so I went upstairs to get changed.
Back down in the living room, Gowing was telling Carrie his gag about the man with one leg, and Carrie was laughing her head off. Perhaps I’m losing my sense of humour. Who knows? I made my feelings known about Jimmy Padge. Gowing had only met him once, apparently, through some mutual acquaintance. Jimmy had bought the two of them lunch somewhere posh, so Gowing thought he should return the compliment. Bloody hell! The cheek of it. Lupin came in before I could say anything, and unfortunately Gowing asked him how Daisy Mutlar was. Lupin shouted “Stick … your … fat … nose … out. OK?" He stumped out of the room, slammed the door and disappeared. The rest of the night was Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. How tedious!
©MMIX KONSIGNIA. All rights reserved.
Why shouldn’t
I publish
my diary?
I often see memoirs by people I’ve never even heard of and I don’t see why my diary should be any less interesting, just because I’m not a ‘celebrity’. I only wish I’d started it when I was younger.
Charles Pooter
The Laurels, 32 Elmside,
Barleycorn Mead, Harrow on the Hill.
charles@charlespooter.com
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