Sixteen

I called my mother this morning to ask about her date.

'What was he like then, this Roger?' I asked.

'Very.......interesting. He had a lot of hair.'

'Did he? That's nice. Was he good looking?'

'I mean a lot of hair.'

'Yes. You said. What colour eyes?'

'Ginger.'

'Pardon?'

'His hair. It was ginger. He had a lot of ginger hair. A lot. I mean lots of very ginger hair.'

'Mmhmm...I've got it. Ginger hair. Lots.'

'With a sort of mullet thing at the back.....'

'Oh. Not so good.'

'I swear it moved at one point.'

'It did?'

'Yes, the mullety bit. It sort of lifted in the breeze....and shimmied.'

'Shimmied? Right. So...are we thinking wig, then?'

'Either that or he had a bloody great squirrel on his head. If it had jumped off and begged for some nuts, I wouldn't have been remotely surprised....'


I still don't know if he was a lollipop man or not, but it sounded as though he could definitely be a potential Belisha Beacon....