The Diary of a Nobody
Being the modern day record of Charles
Pooter VI -
direct descendant of the 19th Century original
Friday, June 04, 2010
In the afternoon, I was looking out of the living room window, when a very big black Mercedes pulled up in front of the house. A woman was driving, and there was a man beside her in the passenger seat. I didn’t want to be caught looking like a nosey neighbour, so I got out of the way quickly and bashed my head in the process. I felt really giddy. There was a very insistent ringing on the front doorbell. After a load of hiatus (Carrie thought it might be Barry Perkupp, so she went up to brush her hair, and we were both running round like headless chickens) we went to the door. I was relieved to see it was Daisy and Lupin.Lupin greeted me by saying, “Hey, why did you run away from the window? Did we scare you?”
I foolishly said, “What window?”
Lupin said, “Oh for God’s sake. You know. It looked like some kind of Punch and Judy show”.
Carrie asked if they’d like something to drink. Lupin said, “I’m sure Daisy’ll have a cup of tea. I’ll have a vodka and tonic, if you’ve got one”.
I said, “Sorry, we haven’t got any tonic”.
Lupin said, “No dramas”. They stayed very briefly, and as they were leaving Lupin said, “I’d like you to come over for dinner with me, next Wednesday, to see the new place. Murray, Daze and Lilly (Murray’s sister) are coming. Eight o’clock sharp. Don’t bring anyone else”.
I said, “That’s a bit tricky. If you could make it a bit earlier, it’d be easier for us to get back”.
Lupin said, “Bollocks. You’re going to have to get used to it. If needs be, Daze or me can give you a lift”.
We promised we’d go. I have to say that from my pretty straightforward, traditional point of view, the familiar way Lupin and Daisy talked to each other didn’t seem right. Anyone would think they’d known each other since primary school. I don’t think I’d like someone I’d known for just six months calling my wife “Caz” or whatever, and gadding around town with her
©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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