Life... With No Breaks (A laugh-out-loud comedy memoir) (23 page)

Well, you’re certainly right on the first point there, love. Not too sure about the second one these days. Mind you, at least you got rid of that maniac Bush and replaced him with some who actually has a brain.

The lizard switches track at this point, remembering why she’s accosted me in the first place, and produces what looks like a solid gold cigarette holder from a solid gold Chanel handbag and puts a solid gold cigarette into it.

This all screams:

I have money! Lots of lovely money!

‘Can I have a light?’ she asked, squinting at me in the mid-morning sun.

I flip open the Zippo and provide her with fire.

She gratefully sucks at it through the cigarette holder and lets out a plume of smoke smelling vaguely of coffee. That’s how you know a cigarette’s expensive - when it stinks of something it probably shouldn’t.

‘I love England,’ she continues, not intent on letting me go until she’s had her say. ‘My husband and I like to go shopping in London.’

Like to go
shopping
in London.

Not on
holiday
to London… oh no.

She treats travelling half-way across the world in first class in the same way we’d treat popping down town on a Saturday afternoon to pick up some new shelves from B&Q.

I’m at a loss for a response – which happens rarely. How do you provide a comeback to a statement like that?

‘That’s nice for you,’ I eventually mumble. ‘I went to London to see Cats a few months ago.’

A brilliant piece of small talk, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Frankly, I want to get away from Godzilla as soon as possible. The smell of her cigarette is starting to make me nauseous and I’m going slightly blind from the sun reflecting off the yellow outfit.

I say a perfunctory goodbye and make my exit - feigning interest in the nice rug with zigzags on it I’ve seen in a nearby shop window.

Meeting this aging monster made me feel a lot better about myself.

It’s true I can’t afford to hop on a plane to New York and do a spot of browsing round JC Penney, but it’s also true that my eyes don’t constantly water due to face-lifts and I don’t look like a lizard in a hideous outfit that advertises some pompous fashion label.

I’ve met people like this many times. Not quite to her extent maybe, but displaying many of the same traits.

I work in marketing after all and it’s a business that sees the little man – me - come up against the big man - fat, sweaty pharmaceutical giant - on many occasions.

Comparisons with the well-to-do are unavoidable sometimes, especially when you’re working your way up the employment ladder to the dizzy heights of a private parking space and twenty weeks holiday a year.

Now I’m older, wiser and a heap-load more cynical, I like to ignore the material aspect of my fellow man and judge them purely on their actions.

Then if I happen to see some guy in a flash car and an even flasher suit, I’ll wait to see what kind of man he is up close and personal before I decide whether I like him and want to
be
like him or not.

Ten times out of ten so far, I’ve discovered
I don’t
.

I’ve never met anyone with a great personality that also liked to show off their wealth and success - but the search goes on.

What’s that? Did I hear you mumble ‘pigs might fly’?

10.01 pm

53225 Words

You know what?

I’m running out of stuff to talk about.

If I carry on much longer I’m going to start repeating myself and that’ll do us no good at all.

Covered a lot though, haven’t we?

Love, marriage, children, work and malfunctioning bowels to name a few.

We’ve been back and forth through time, dipping into Spalding’s life at random moments to glimpse past incidents that have served to highlight a point, explain how I think and bring on a chuckle or two.

Now we’re in the final downhill run, careering towards a conclusion at break-neck speed with no concern for our own safety.

At the beginning I said starting was easy and keeping going was the hard bit. I’m now starting to think that ending might be tricky, too.

Not much new there, eh?

How many times do we find it hard to end something? How many times do we feel sad when something comes to a conclusion?

If you’re the one to end a relationship it’s never easy, because you feel the guilt of upsetting the other party. Or, if they’ve turned out to be a nutcase it can be difficult, because you don’t want them to put your favourite pet in a bubbling pot of water, or write nasty things about you on toilet doors.

Switch it around and you’re the one being dumped. Is there anything more horrible than a relationship ending that you’ve been happy with?

How about leaving a job?

That can be hard, if its one you enjoy.

Even if the new job pays better and is nearer to your house.

If you’ve built up friendships at the place you’ve worked for the last seven years, then it’s bound to be difficult to wander off into the sunset without a pang of regret.

Even short term things can be hard to finish:

The fantastic week’s holiday you’ve just had in Morocco for instance, where you wandered through the bazaars, chatted up the local skirt and drank too much alcohol.

I always have problems when I come back from a trip abroad and have to slide back into normal life.

It also takes me ages to get the pictures downloaded onto the laptop, as if that last exercise is the final indication the holiday is actually over.

What about the end of the Christmas break, if you’re lucky enough to get one?

There are no happy people in this world at the beginning of January. With the exception of gym owners, perhaps.

Getting more short term:

What about the great parties on a Saturday night, where the music rocks, the booze is free and you’re surrounded by like-minded people who won’t take the piss too much if you crap yourself in public. Problem is, you know the party has to end sometime and that Monday morning is looming on the horizon …

That’s the reason why so many Saturday night parties go on until five or six in the morning. It may seem like it’s because everyone is so tanked up that the clock has become just a blurry blob on the periphery of vision, but it’s actually because we know damn well that the clock is there and we’re trying our best to deny its existence by staying up well past our bedtime.

Let’s get
really
short-term shall we?

Watching a good movie.

Sat in a comfy seat at the multiplex, popcorn in one hand and bucket of coke in the other, you sit and watch some amazing spectacle unfold in front of you. You love the characters, you love the plot. It speaks to you in ways no other film ever has.

But you know it has to end – and that very soon you’ll be spending fifteen minutes trying to find the BMW in a car park roughly the size of Mozambique.

Even more
short term?

How about lunch breaks in the sun, with a tasty baguette from the sandwich shop and a cup of coffee that revives and invigorates? You eat the baguette and sip the coffee, knowing full well you’ve got to go back to that bloody processing report in a minute.

What about a long, luxurious bath?

The tub is full with hot soapy water that soothes away aches and pains. No-one else is in the house, so you’re able to giggle loudly when you fart and can sing songs at the top of your voice if you want. But the water will get cold eventually and you’ll have to get out.

How about the half an hour you spend reading a good book?

The one by Nick Spalding that you downloaded because it looked like an easy read. You’ve found it to be a thoroughly entertaining way to pass a few minutes in your otherwise hectic schedule and would recommend it to your friends.

…
ahem
.

Shorter term
still
:

How about the first cigarette after a large and delicious meal?

Or the last drink before saying goodbye to your friends and wending your way home in the spring moonlight?

Or the soaring orgasm you have at the same time as the person you love?

When all good things end, it’s hard (or soft in the last example) and there’s inevitably some sadness and pain involved.

In a way, that’s good though, isn’t it?

After all, there’s nothing wrong with the flavour bitter-sweet…

10.54 pm

54127 Words

Nearly at the end now…

Only a few pages left.

Stick with me. I still have a few things to get off my chest before we’re done.

So, what should you do with this book when you’ve finished it?

You could simply save somewhere in a folder on your PC or e-book reader, leaving it to electronically hibernate.

If you do, please do me a favour and don’t store it next to some weighty, important novel like Of Mice And Men or The Complete Works Of Shakespeare. It’ll be highly embarrassing to be in such company and I may never recover.

The next time someone asks you if you’ve got anything to read, you can suggest this book if you like. Don’t give them your copy though, make them download one of their own and I’ll share the royalties with you 50/ 50. Deal?

Alternatively:

Top Tips For What To Do With Spalding’s Book Once You’ve Finished It!

1. Upload to bit-torrent so people can download it for free. This will of course make you an
utter bastard
, but as I cheerfully downloaded the entire series of Friends the other day, I can’t really complain, can I?

2. Someone in this world you don’t like? Then why not print off relevant pages with a series of passages highlighted in bold that you feel best describe them. I’ve taken a pop at all different kinds of people over the last fifty thousand words, so there’s hopefully a suitable section you can use. When you do this, point meaningfully at the parts you’ve highlighted and say
‘read and learn.’

3. Print off the
whole
book and get me to autograph it. This will require stalking me for an extended period of time. I tend to go for a constitutional walk around tea time if that helps. When you’ve finally confronted me and I steadfastly refuse to sign, threaten me with a sponge until I capitulate.

4. Deliberately annoy people at dinner parties by entering into a conversation about a topic I’ve brought up. When they start to make a point, whip out your e-reader and utter
‘Well, Nick Spalding says…’
followed by a lengthy reading in a dull, monotonous voice. See how many times you can do this in one evening before they throw you out.

5. Decide this book is now your Bible. Take it down the local shopping mall and stand reciting parts of it at the top of your voice until the police come along and batter you with truncheons. Call them fascist thugs between beatings. If nothing else, you’ll probably get on YouTube.

6. Spend months looking for the secret code in the text that will lead you to a complete understanding of the nature of existence. If it works for Dan Brown, it can work for me. If you do find anything, bore intellectual people with it at your leisure.

7. Translate the book into a foreign language. Compare the two versions and learn a new tongue. You’ll know the Swahili for clock, sponge, bowels and embarrassment in no time, I assure you.

8. Need to make an apology to a loved one for a recent indiscretion? Print off the following section, filling in the blanks as appropriate:

I, __________________________________ AM VERY SORRY FOR___________________________________LAST WEEK/MONTH/YEAR (delete as appropriate).

I WHOLE-HEARTEDLY APOLOGISE, AND HOPE THAT YOU’RE ABLE TO FORGIVE ME/ LET ME OFF/ NOT CUT ME OUT OF YOUR WILL / GET THE PROBLEM CLEARED UP WITH OINTMENTS (delete as appropriate) AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

THE AUTHOR NICK SPALDING WILL BACK ME UP ON MY SINCERITY, AND YOU CAN TRUST HIS OPINION COMPLETELY.

SIGNED, IN GROVELLING REGRET:__________________________________________

9. Use this book as inspiration to write your own. I’m certainly too lazy to write a sequel, so why not take up the mantle for me? As I’ve said, people love to read about the lives of others and I’m sure you have quite a few anecdotes of your own that’ll fill up a couple of hundred pages. I recommend doing it in intervals over a few weeks though. This writing a whole book in one sitting thing sounds like a nice idea, but you try telling that to my arse.

There you go, not only do you get a book to read, you also get some helpful tips and suggestions for hobbies and pastimes - I like to add that extra special something when I can.

11.34 pm

54873 Words

So we’ve come to the end of our journey.

You’ve been here by my side through the entire thing and I genuinely hope it’s been fun for you.

I hope you’ve liked the time we’ve spent together - and that the chair you’ve been sitting in for what seems like a century hasn’t destroyed your posterior completely.

You’ve enjoyed the food, of that there is no doubt, and you’ve been very good at not complaining about the smoke from the endless stream of cigarettes. Their ranks have dwindled and many soldiers have fallen in battle, with my lungs now a blasted wasteland.

The coffee was crap, but then what drink wouldn’t be when it’s been standing in a thermos flask for hours?