Crawling
He wasn't really from Crawley, so it's certainly not Crawley's fault, and I shan't say where he was really from, because it isn't that place's fault either. But he was the man I was sitting next to at the aforementioned Footballers' Dinner in 1986 and he was the dullest man in the world. On the other side of me was my husband Stephen, and he can talk perfectly well in real life but doesn't do conversation at dinner parties and, what's more, nobody expects him to. So it was just me and Crawley Man.
"I've just bought a new house in Crawley," was his opening gambit.
"Oh, good, and are you pleased with it?" says me, in an friendly making-conversation kind of a way.
"Oh yes. Fifty grand profit on my last house. Bought it for blah blah in nineteen eighty blah and now just blah years later it's worth blah"
"Really?" (I am still making conversation but my eyes are beginning to glaze over)
"The wife didn't like the old house. The garden was too big. We've got rid of the lawn at this house too. More space for the cars."
"Lovely."
"And it's really convenient for Sainsbury's."
"Good."
"Do you know Crawley?"
"No, I've never been there."
"Well, to get to Sainsbury's from my house you have to turn left. Then there are three roundabouts. The first one you go straight across - that's the one by the hospital. Do you know the hospital there?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"And when you've passed the hospital it's about two hundred yards to the next roundabout."
"Marvellous."
"And just by the next roundabout there's the Dog and Gun. Not a bad pub actually, do you know it?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"Well, about half a mile down the road there and there's the Comfort Foam shop. You can get foam in all sorts of shapes and thicknesses. Ever been there?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
I looked at Stephen who was apparently giving his undivided attention to his unidentifiable food which I knew he hated.
"And then after a couple of hundred yards - - no, wait, I think it's a bit further, I'll just work it out - - past the Fire Station - - then there's the vet's - - well it used to be a vet's but I think he's retired now - - must be two hundred and fifty yards - - and there's the third roundabout. The one with that house with the red windows. Do you know the house with the red - -?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"Anyway, just past that and Sainsbury's it on your right. The turning in is easy to miss, though - I've been in through the way out three times now, can you believe it?"
I could believe anything. And there were three more courses to go.
"I've just bought a new house in Crawley," was his opening gambit.
"Oh, good, and are you pleased with it?" says me, in an friendly making-conversation kind of a way.
"Oh yes. Fifty grand profit on my last house. Bought it for blah blah in nineteen eighty blah and now just blah years later it's worth blah"
"Really?" (I am still making conversation but my eyes are beginning to glaze over)
"The wife didn't like the old house. The garden was too big. We've got rid of the lawn at this house too. More space for the cars."
"Lovely."
"And it's really convenient for Sainsbury's."
"Good."
"Do you know Crawley?"
"No, I've never been there."
"Well, to get to Sainsbury's from my house you have to turn left. Then there are three roundabouts. The first one you go straight across - that's the one by the hospital. Do you know the hospital there?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"And when you've passed the hospital it's about two hundred yards to the next roundabout."
"Marvellous."
"And just by the next roundabout there's the Dog and Gun. Not a bad pub actually, do you know it?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"Well, about half a mile down the road there and there's the Comfort Foam shop. You can get foam in all sorts of shapes and thicknesses. Ever been there?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
I looked at Stephen who was apparently giving his undivided attention to his unidentifiable food which I knew he hated.
"And then after a couple of hundred yards - - no, wait, I think it's a bit further, I'll just work it out - - past the Fire Station - - then there's the vet's - - well it used to be a vet's but I think he's retired now - - must be two hundred and fifty yards - - and there's the third roundabout. The one with that house with the red windows. Do you know the house with the red - -?"
"No, I've never been to Crawley."
"Anyway, just past that and Sainsbury's it on your right. The turning in is easy to miss, though - I've been in through the way out three times now, can you believe it?"
I could believe anything. And there were three more courses to go.
posted by Daphne at 3:37 pm
4 Comments:
this must be the place - well it's sunday and I'm bored.
Not far off - - and oh, it looks so right - -
CRAWLEY BORING MAN REALLY FROM READING
This week Crawley has been reeling from the recent ‘most boring man’ accusations. But our secret sources reveal that the most boring man in the world is really from Reading!
Today there were shocked scenes at Reading town hall when we confronted council leaders with the truth.
A spokesman said 'It's nonsense to suggest that everyone here is boring based on this one report. I'm certainly quite interesting, and so are one or two other people I know. Take Brian for example, who lives two doors down from the estate agent on Whitley Street – you know, the one with the marvellous hanging baskets.'
Based on these shocking revelations from our undercover reporter, Crawley town council is said to be considering legal action against the internet pundit who allegedly started the ‘boring Crawley’ rumour.
Crawley, Reading, Rawley, Creading, Crawding, Readly, Radley - acreas of tarmac, red brick and concrete, doesn't matter what they're called, they are the stuff of sit-coms and suburbia, spawning boredom like Mogodon in weak tea.
Post a Comment
<< Home