a little night music…
As you can imagine, preparations for my week in the City of Lights are well underway; thanks to the beautiful summer weather I have been laundering, mending, sorting and packing and most satisfyingly of all, have spent a happy afternoon decanting household essentials into little containers in order to avoid having to buy full size versions upon my arrival (although as I plan to stock up on my favourite Maison Verte Thyme-Basilic washing up liquid during my visit, at least one of these carefully poured mini bottles is beginning to look a bit superfluous).
I am thrifty by nature, and can also shamefully report that the gleaming metal trays of individual salt, pepper and sugar sachets available in McDonalds are slightly more denuded than usual following my pit-stop there last Thursday afternoon – I am told that holiday flats occasionally come equipped with these, but I cannot eat unseasoned food and decided that this (plus the prospect of unsugared tea) rendered the level of risk unacceptable. Plus, no matter what I say now, I will be needing my suitcase space on the way back.
The hunt for suitable musical background-accompaniment continues, and I have been rather taken with a speaker/ipod dock combo sold helpfully on Amazon – watch this space! I am having far more success with my new tack of removing unsuitable candidates from my ‘prospectives’ list rather than ploughing through over-many choices – goodbye Jilted John, Slipknot, the Specials and (sob) Tom Waits; hello Marvin Gaye, Prince, Roxy Music and the Cocteau Twins (jury still out on Stevie Wonder, Amy Winehouse and the Safety Dance by Men at Work. Only kidding).
As an alternative, a very enjoyable evening was spent skipping through my not-inconsiderable classical collection and my early thoughts were the section of my audio library containing these wonderful pieces would do nicely even practically unmoderated (Rhapsody in Blue, anyone?) until the dawning realisation that the rousing chorus of Handel’s Messiah (not the mention the relentlessly cheerful but wholly inappropriate Radzetsky March) whilst unarguably stirring stuff, may not prove particularly conducive to seduction of any kind.
This week has brought a surprisingly healthy level of visitors considering the school holidays have been upon us (a situation I first became aware of when I stepped out to call at the bank on Tuesday morning) and the pleasant weather has ensured that a relaxed and cheerful mood has pervaded the flat, although the gentleman who cancelled his appointment on the strength of a ridiculously emotive and poorly-informed newspaper article in last weekend’s press will not be winning any popularity contests, although sadly, he is by no means likely to be the only person taken in by this condescending rubbish.
In a nutshell; Woman (journalist) who is not a prostitute, and has not apparently spoken to any working prostitutes, places an escort advertisement on a little-used UK directory and is appalled to find that potential clients eagerly respond, to the tune of £1000 worth of bookings (incredible in itself, considering that Ms Press began phone conversations by asking these potential clients personal questions, and not surprisingly got hung up on more than once).
Ms Press summarises in the closing sentence that she ‘wouldn’t wish it (prostitution) as a career on anyone’, although as she did not actually accept and participate in any of said bookings, it is rather like me saying that I wouldn’t wish a job in an abbatoir on anybody even though I have never worked at or even been in an abbatoir, despite having often eaten steak that some would consider in need of a repeat visit (just to be on the safe side). In addition, and irrespective of whether or not it was my career preference, I would still also be capable of acknowledging that some abbatoirs are better, cleaner and more responsible operations than others, but the fact that EVERY industry is composed of myriad different sectors and levels, each with good and bad practitioners also seems to be lost on the good people at the Times. Slaughterhouses are not a perfect example, admittedly, and perhaps a better one would have been a career in politics.
Does anyone know if it is possible to sue these cretinous parasites for lost earnings, on the basis that they are printing unacceptable levels of patronising, badly researched, unsubstantiated bollocks? And coming up next, porcine avionics…
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