Tuesday, July 10, 2007
A funny thing happened on the way to the theatre...
No, honestly, it did. We were down in London last weekend - my wife, daughters, and me. The two girls had decided that they wanted to go and see some appalling Andrew Lloyd-Webber thing that's been on the telly recently. Don't even ask. Gina and I were going to drop them off at the Adelphi, and then go on to a jazz club somewhere.
So we all left the hotel at the same time and toddled along the Strand - girls in front, arm in arm, dressed up to the nines, and Gina and I keeping a respectful ten paces to the rear as parents are required to do.
I have to say they looked pretty good, those girls. They're wearing skirts short this year, and they do have the legs for it. If ever I'm stuck for ready cash I shall be auctioning them off on ebay. Their wardrobes alone must be worth the price of a flat in Mayfair. Yes, perhaps it's time we saw some return on our investment...
Anyway, they're turning a few male heads, and I'm feeling that mixed sense of pride and propriety that I suppose all fathers experience under such circumstances. Half of me thinks 'Blimey...did I have some part in all of this?' and the other half wants to shout "Oy! What're you looking at, you deviant?"
All par for the course, though, until we notice this blind guy, begging. He's standing on the corner of Southampton Street with his stick and dark glasses and tin cup. And I swear to God that as the girls sashay past him his jaw drops, his head spins round, and he ogles them all the way down the Strand. I had to hold Gina up, she was laughing so much.
I didn't put any money in the tin cup though, and now I feel guilty because that was the best bit of entertainment I had all weekend. Certainly the cheapest.