I’m looking for a younger man, someone who can hold me up when I fall.
There is a competition running on the radio to see Bruce Springsteen in New York City. It’s in aid of Children in Need and it costs £10 to enter, all of the proceeds going to C In N – I would love to see The Boss, especially in NYC.
On Tuesday morning the conversation between me and my patient husband (PH) went like this:
Me; “Would you like to see Bruce Springsteen?”
PH; “Oh I s’pose if he ever came to this country”
Me; “You wouldn’t like to see him in New York, then?”
PH; “What, you mean this competition?”
Me; “On Broadway, Upper Class Virgin Travel, three nights in the Hilton Midtown, you wouldn’t want to do that?”
PH: Sighs deeply “Can you think of the aggro getting there? It would be so much hassle and anyway, there’s probably a ‘get out clause’ for wheelchairs”.
It’s early in the morning and it took me a while to get the irony of a ‘get out clause’ for wheelchairs and I know that PH doesn’t do irony, so it wasn’t deliberate. The conversation continues:
Me; “I don’t think Chris Evans or Virgin Atlantic would get away with such discrimination, do you?”
PH; “Well you’d never win anyway!”
Me; “No, probably you’re right but it’s for a good cause and I will read the t & c’s, just to check before I enter.”
PH; “You do what you wanna do, Saints are only two points off the bottom now.”
At this point I know the conversation is over, apart from me saying: “I could do this conversation in ‘stand up’, oh whoops, I’ve done it again!