Scoop Adams
Travelling back from Charing Cross to Tunbridge Wells, I couldn’t help overhearing a woman chatting on her mobile, so I scribbled the conversation down. It was pretty much as follows:-
‘Yeah, yeah, twenty-thirteen already. Can’t believe it. Yeah, last year was an eventful year for me on the menopause front but at long last it’s over. Unfortunately, the money I thought I was going to save on the usual monthly paraphernalia was immediately taken up on hearing aid batteries. The National Health provides them free of course, but only if you use their contraptions, which I don’t.
Ironic isn’t it: you spend years looking forward to drawing your old-age pension and the prospect of enjoying yourself at last and, just as the good life is in sight, your ears and memory start to pack up. What bugs me is since I’ve had hearing aids Bernie has stopped mumbling. Typical. If he’d have enunciated clearer sooner I’d’ve saved over three thousand pounds. Anyway, although I can hear what he says now, it’s an advantage having aids ‘cos I can switch them off when he’s cracking on about the Odeon site debacle or the unfairness of Crowborough having free parking while we in T W have to pay through the nose.
We’re nearly at my stop so I wish you and Percy – oops, sorry, my memory! Last time we spoke you told me he’d passed away. Not passed away? That he was gay! Ha ha, honestly, my ears! Happy New Year, anyway.
Read Freda Field’s New Year resolutions in Erica Adams’ novel ‘The Pig and I’. Sales not yet up with ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, more like Thirty Shades of Pink to be honest.
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