Letter to Rebecca #6

Postcard perverts, Puddlegate, a letter within a letter, and other ramblings

Dear Rebecca

It occurs to me that as you have never seen what I look like, you wouldn’t recognise me if we passed each other in the street. It’s easily done: I once walked past Elaine in the street without recognising her, and it wasn’t received very well. The fact that she’d just had her hair done had a bearing on it, but even so. For that reason I’ve included a picture of myself (above), which I hope will prove useful should you ever venture to London. You will, no doubt, be mesmerised by the remorseless precision of my profile¹.

Which brings me on to your letter. It was very nice of you to send it, though I’m not used to women sending me letters on graph paper. I’m more used to receiving letters on pink scented paper and with rose petals in the envelope². Well, not to worry: I can understand that a letter like that could have been misconstrued — but graph paper?? I’m surprised you didn’t include a pie chart to illustrate the proportion of first class and second class letters you send out.

I, too, traded in my stamps because they didn’t have a barcode. The number of stamps we had, all over the place, amounted to over £180. It’s because I wasn’t consistent in where I put the wretched things, so every time we needed a stamp we bought another book. I assumed that the Royal Mail would send us some money, but instead they just sent us a load of stamps. They will probably outlast me. (And given the way I’m feeling at the moment, that won’t be too long³. I have asked Elaine to make sure my tombstone reads “He just needed a couple more days to finish the article” or, perhaps, a more concise, “He was here, and now he isn’t”.) The big problem for me is that I hardly ever get ill, because my body is like a finely-honed machine. so when I do get ill, it’s not very nice.

Postcards are indeed rather unprivate, but that can be an advantage. In my youth, I once bought a pack of postcards with pre-written messages on, in a font that looked like handwriting. The messages were all different, and I sent them to a load of friends, and sent one to myself to not arouse suspicion (the ruse didn’t work). I can’t remember most of them, but the one I was most pleased with, and which for some reason the recipient did not wish to discuss, read:

I think we all know who the mysterious pantie thief is around here, don’t we now?

And now… Puddlegate:

Dear Local Councillors

As you will see from the enclosed photograph, the situation at our local bus stop has deteriorated considerably.

As I’m sure you will agree, there’s a problem, and someone needs to do something about it⁴. At the recent meeting, which I have to say was one of the most badly organised meetings I have ever had the misfortune to attend, the Big Cheese announced that a lido was going to be built in our local park. Presumably this is to replace the lido that was filled in and paved over a few years ago.

As a local ratepayer with an interest in saving money, may I suggest that the lido be put next to our bus stop instead? After all, most of the work has already been done. People would be able to travel to the lido by bus, wearing their swimming gear, and simply leap off the bus’s platform (or dive off it) straight into the water.

Thank you for considering this brilliant suggestion.

Yours faithfully,

Cheesed-off of Chigwell

Finally, if the sun was a company it would be sued under the Trade Descriptions Act. I mean, it’s lovely and bright, and emitting hardly any heat. I’ve found it helps if you hold your arms up so your hands are closer to the sun, but you get funny looks.

Well, that’s it from me. I hope readers will subscribe to your newsletter to make sure they see your reply:

TTFN⁵

Terry

1. I’m afraid I cannot claim originality for this phrase. It appears in one of Stephen Potter’s books on one upmanship, in a section called Woomanship. He relates the story of someone who tries to make himself look handsome by standing under a spotlight, thereby creating a chiaroscuro effect, and repeating over and over, “The remorseless precision of my profile.”

2. And that’s just from the taxman.

3. As a rule, our doctor’s surgery says not to visit if you have a cough or a cold, which makes it a bit difficult if that’s the reason you need to visit.

4. A conversation I had with a colleague after spending 45 minutes listening to a keynote speech:

Me: Do you think a fair summary of that talk would be “There’s a problem in education, and somebody needs to do something about it”?

Colleague, after a moment to consider: Yeah, I think that about sums it up.

5. = ta ta for now = bye for now