So, I was in the pet shop today waiting behind a woman who was trying to decide on which was the right sized dog-collar-that-flashes-in-the-dark for her dog.
‘You can serve this gentleman while I decide,’ she said to the shop assistant.
I looked around one way, then looked around the other.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked the assistant.
And then I felt the fever of embarrassment because it really wasn’t very funny, was it? What happened, you see, was that when she referred to me as a gentleman, I remembered a scene from the old classic comedy Oh Mr Porter and my response was based on it. The problem was that I’m no Harbottle, and a pet shop in Ashbourne doesn’t quite replicate the atmosphere of a run down old railway station in Buggleskelly.
Must get a grip on myself.