Oh it's been a mad couple of weeks y'know. It's been Very Trying (with a very capital Vee and Tee!!) to say the very least. Let's start with Dad being discharged from hospital, going on holiday to recuperate then coming back having almost o.d'd on a cocktail of painkillers for the journey back (mistakenly thinking that this would make him more comfortable) and with a monstrous water infection, the combination of the two having made him hallucinate.
My daughter has broken her little toe and is now walking painfully with crutches and a big slipper boot on her poor foot. Of course nothing can be done apart from taping her toes and protecting it from further damage. Poor love.
My son, for whom music plays a massive part in his life, had his beloved I-pod stolen from the school gym whilst he was doing his p.e. lesson. He was devastated. He says he feels naked without it and the thought of uploading in excess of a thousand tunes again makes him feel ill. His blazer had been emptied and the contents of the same strewn over the floor. The school, of course, have taken the stance that they're no responsible for such items. Maybe so but they surely have a responsibility to look into a blatant theft on their property? They're checking cctv at present and we shall know the outcome shortly.
A little light relief in the midst of all this madness was that lovely man and I had 'won' tickets to a mock-wedding reception with the added bonus of potentially competing for a prize of a £7,000 wedding package promoted as The Great British Wedding. Well who were we to turn a freebie night out down?
A local hotel/gymnasium complex ran the competition and couples were drawn at random after completing an online questionnaire. The invite suggested party frocks and suits so it was an excuse to get poshed up for an evening. Sadly we didn't think the Sex Pistols teeshirt would have gone down too well! Charl borrowed a suit and treated me to a new long black (what else?!) maxi dress.
|The sanest couple in the room. Yes really.|
Accompanied with a nice large glass of red, the starter was served. This was chargrilled asparagus in a hollandaise sauce, topped with a breadcrumb encrusted softly boiled egg and accompanied by warm rolls and butter. Seriously simple but nicely presented and very tasty. We scoffed ours but loud, moany woman to our left proclaimed it to "taste funny" and (please adopt loud, broadest Black Country accent) "IT WORE COOKED PROPER". Apart from an end of an asparagus tip her meal remained largely untouched. Her partner reassured her that it was indeed cooked but "ISS BIN STEAMED AY IT?" (this was to become a common theme and no it wasn't steamed you philistine!).
Ahem. We had pseudo-speeches from the pretend best man which was obviously a big 'up' for the venue and an encouragement to book our own weddings there.
|Iss no rat - iss 'amster|
Her partner once again proclaimed "ISS COS THEY'M STEAMED AY THEY?". In fact, if he said it once, he said about 10 times in response to her moaning and I was very close to stabbling him in the eye with me fork. And no, they weren't bliddy steamed!!! She did, however, demolish her mash and several rolls and declared them delicious!
The competition amounted to each lady in the room (that's me that is!) receiving a cupcake from the cupcake tower. These were distributed by the waiting staff who, oddly enough, seem to take quite a while selecting their cakes and appeared to be weighing them before placing them on to the serving trays. We all had to stand up and on the count of three, bite into the cake. Those who found a solid chocolate egg were entered into the 'Mr and Mrs Competition' . Three lucky couples around the room struck lucky and they were taken into a side room to prepare them for their questions.
(Moany woman declared the cake to be "BLOODY GORGEOUS". Which was nice!). They were very tasty - from what I could glean from the few crumbs Charl left for me to try! They were carrot cake cupcakes and beautifully moist. Whilst dessert was served - meringue, cream and summer fruits - (and a third glass of wine that Charl had appropriated from a passing waiter as he could see my knuckles getting whiter and whiter), the first leg of the Mr and Mrs Competition was underway with varying degrees of knowledge about respective partners being demonstrated.
|It's a Post Box dear!!! - just in case you were wondering!|
People are odd. They really are. One question was: "Name one thing about your partner that you would send to Room 101". One guy answered "Snakes". Er. O-kayy. It was worth the taxi fare up there to see the look on his partner's face!! Pahahaha!!
The couple who won just smiled. They had just won £7000 worth of a wedding package including vintage Bentley wedding cars and they merely smiled. No tears, no excitement, no "OH MYYYYY GODDDDDDDDD I'VE WON THANK YOU SOOOOOOOO MUUUUUUCH" and leaping up and down in childlike wonder. Nothing. Is it me? Don't people get excited any more?
What is wrong with people?
We escaped shortly afterwards, narrowly avoiding the drunken oik in the (carpeted) corridor who was vomiting copiously on to his shoes.
The couple we shared a taxi home with were of the same opinion as us. Why no excitement? Why the weighing of the cupcakes before dealing them out? All a bit suspish really - but a lovely (and free!) evening all the same.
I bet that bloody woman is still bemoaning her under cooked veg.
"ISS COS ISS STEAMED YER KNOW".
And I wore BEEYOOTIFUL shoes dahhling!