Low life
Talking points
Jeffrey Bernard
T was lying in the bath this morning I thinking, for no good reason, how much the Pope looks like the man who used to run Bianchi's when the radio announced a weather forecast that reminded me of a typical married day of yesteryear. After a bright start it was going to be cold and dry. The evening would be chilly. Ring any bells to any of you chaps out there? Yes, perhaps God has been trying to give me hints and clues for years. Perhaps they've never reallY been talking about the weather. They've been talking about the lady of the moment all the time. 'After a frosty start to the day a depression will bring fog and mist, to manY parts. By late evening visibility will be very poor and the night will be cool.' But, of course, it's only to women that weather means weather, and the old cow downstairs personifies the English obsession with the weather while boring for England at the same time.
'Ooh, it was cold last night Mr B. I said to Bill I said, "Bill, you can take the dog out tonight. I'm not going out there. Not for anything." Then it came down. Did it come down. I mean did you hear it?' No.' 'What, you didn't hear it?"No."0oh, you must sleep well. You do sleep well don't you Mr B?' (She is letting me know she knows I drink.) 'Well you're lucky. It takes one drop of rain, that's all, one drop of rain and I'm wide awake. Mind you I don't mind the rain. I mean rain's all right if you're covered up properly. It can't hurt you, can it? No, it's the wind I can't stand. You can give me all the rain you want but you can keep your wind. Ooh, what am I saying. No, when we went away to Margate last year the wind was fierce. We were on the beach and I said to Bill, "Bill, we're going home." Yes, I put my foot down. Still, should be nice today. Sun's trying isn't he?' 'Yes.' Off to work then?' Yes."I expect you must be very busy.' Pretty."I don't know how you do it. I tried it once.' Really?"Oh yes. ,l used to jot my thoughts down in a little book. You know, just for fun. But I never showed it to anyone. No, I couldn't do that. They'd think I was silly wouldn't they?"No, I'm sure they wouldn't.' (Shut up you hideous, stupid, old cow before I strangle you.) 'Oh yes they would. If I'd had your sort of education, mind you, I might.' (If you'd had my sort of education you disgusting person — sudden picture in my mind of disgusting person's bare buttocks being caned — you might be jotting your thoughts down for the Guardian.) `No, I'm sure your little book's very interesting. Anyway, look, I must dash.' Off to the desk and the typewriter then? I expect you've got a nice office, haven't you?' (Yes, it's got a 20-foot desk with eight stools along it and four beer pumps behind it, you ghastly person.) 'Oh well, I shan't keep you. Look, there it is. I knew that old sun would pop out. Chilly though, isn't it?"Yes. Right. Be seeing you. Bye.' Mind you wrap up then.' (Mind you wrap up altogether you horrible slug.) God preserve us. But did he hell. I got to my office half an hour later, and there was a new barmaid. And what did this mindless person say to me while idly polishing a glass? 'Never mind. Each day we get a little nearer to heaven, don't we?' There's no answer to that. I was rendered speechless. Each day we get a little nearer to heaven! I ask you. Here's me trying to avoid heaven like the plague — I wonder what time they open there, or do they open at all? — and there's this benign tumour over the bar proving that the 'meaning of life' isn't worth contemplating since there isn't one if such people exist. Wouldn't I like to give them all the leg up to heaven straight away, though. But if you can't beat them, join them. 'Christ it's chilly, isn't it?' I said. 'Ever so. I expect that sun'll pop out soon though.' Yes,' I said, 'you can't keep a good man down. Ha, ha."Ha, ha."Brr, brr."Hands cold?"0oh, yes. Brr.'
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