Monday 2 July 2012


Weekend started rather inauspiciously as I detailed on the show Monday morning.

Dark Lady was coming to mine for the weekend.

"Why don't I take your suitcase down in the car with me? Save you lugging it on the train when you finish work."

"Good idea. No idea why we haven't thought of this before" she said.

I like this element of our relationship. Me being manly and problem solving, making life better and easier for "the little woman"!

So after the programme I drove to her house and went to bed whilst she got up and went to work, leaving the suitcase at the top of the stairs.

About ten I got up and loaded up the car with all those things you need for a weekend. DVDs, my bag, CDs to be taken home and re-filed on the shelves in the spare bedroom. I also took out the recycling and fixed a couple of busted light bulbs. I was on a roll.

About an hour and a half later, and some eighty miles on my way, I suddenly started to have a nagging feeling. No. Impossible. I ignored it. The feeling became stronger. I struggled to supress it.

I stopped off at the supermarket to get a few salady bits and some bread, as we were going to attempt another crab like we did the other week. Again, this is me being manly and competent, looking after my lovely wife by preparing one of her favourite foods.

I opened the boot of the car.


I had left her bag behind.

I called her immediately to confess.

"Err... slight problem. I forgot your bag."

"You're joking?"

"No, this is no joking matter" I said somewhat crisply. "Shall I go buy you a few bits?"

"No, I'll just have to go home to collect it."

"I'll drive all the way back get the bag, and then collect you from work if you like?"

"No, that would be ridiculous. You know, I had a premonition about this. I should have just taken the bag to work as I always do."

Many years ago I worked at a radio station where a terminally bored bloke did the mid-morning show. He would sit there reading the paper whilst the records played and he had various "features" including the "Under Three Foot High Spot".

This apparently was a winning item where people could ring in and have their children's names read out then, a suitably "kiddie" type record would be played. This bloke was not amused when I asked him if dwarves were actrively encouraged to take part.

Why reference this tired old radio feature in a tale about forgotten luggage?

DL was perfectly OK about the bag amnesia, despite it adding two hours to her day as she had to catch the bus up to her house then back into central London for the train to Hastings.

She was so kind and reasonable about my faux pas that this mighty hunter-gatherer felt somewhat diminished as a home maker as his conscience kicked in. I had remembered my bag. Not hers. Although she did later find it in the living room. So in mitigation I had actually brought it downstairs, THEN forgotten it.

I felt very small and entered my house without needing to open the door - just slunk underneath.

"Weeellll here on FAB FM its time for the Under Three Foot High Spot. Let's send out a big hello to little Alex Lester. Especially for you, Pinky and Perky and "(How Much Is) That Doggie In The Window?"

1 comment:

mwhite229 said...

Oh dear Alex, the DL must feel she has 3 kids - perhaps it would be best to have clothes etc., in "all" your houses - save forgetting suitcases in the future:)