BROTHER, CAN YOU SPARE A DIME?

Thursday night, Dark Lady, Strangelove and I hit the BBC for the Deacon Blue concert. They were excellent and Ricky Ross has a superb voice. If you haven't red buttoned the concert do it quickly before it disappears (or listen by clicking here). Their new album The Hipsters is excellent as well, currently our Album of the Week (hear a track everyday this week around 4.30am)

The title track first getting an airing on Radio 2 as part of Lester's Library. 

(Warning: small man syndrome)

Puffs self up with pride.

Friday morning and I waited in at DL's house for the electrician as the lights in the garden have gone on the blink again. This time it looks like the transformer has an intermittent fault and rats may have chewed through some of the wires.

Currently waiting for the man to get back to me with an estimate. He was due to arrive at 9am. He turned up at 7.50. I was fast asleep.

 "You were supposed to turn up at 9," said man in pants opening front door.

"No one told me!" he responded to my bleary enquiry, trying to look anywhere but at the man in pants.

After he delivered the verdict on the lights and left, it was my turn to head off. I was Hastings bound. Looking forward to a weekend of pie, pub and Camper Van Crisis on TV.

First, though, I needed to do some shopping: I needed pie.

Pulled into supermarket car park and got out, locked up and headed to the store. Hands in jacket pocket where I discovered a space…

 "AEEEEEEIIIIIIIIII"!!

No wallet. I'd left it on the settee at the Dark Lady's house after paying the electrician. This contained credit cards also. No way of getting hands on readies. What was a poor boy to do?

I did this years ago just after moving into a new house. The first meeting with my neighbour went thusly:

"Hello. I'm Alex your new neighbour. Do you think I could borrow £10?"

I phoned my friend Clive.

"You around Saturday evening. I'll meet you in the pub. Can you bring some money?"

I felt like a terrible British classic comedy cad.

"Awfully sorry old man. I find myself somewhat financially embarrassed. Could you possibly cash a small cheque?"

As luck would have it having had previous in this area I had secreted £20 in a book in case of such an eventuality arising again. I also had in the car a 35mm film carton filled with 50p pieced to pay the Dartford Crossing toll. That and the change in my pockets and we were heading for £30.

There was a pie in the freezer too.

The weekend was saved!