Twas Christmas Eve last year . The telephone rang. A very worst for wear Mr C was calling for emergency assistance due to accidentally going out partying the night before he was left with a killer hangover and no Christmas gifts to present to Ma C and the gathered throng at Christmas lunch. Pleas of being busy and having prior engagements were brushed aside and I was to collect him immediately and chauffer him around shopping .Think of the poor disappointed children and not myself Beast I was admonished. .
Having loaded a groaning Mr C into the car and suffered a 30 minute lecture on my driving , amongst the moaning , groaning and ridiculous protestations of I am never drinking again we finally arrived at a well know retail emporium.
Mr C grabbed a trolley and crept off muttering and wincing in the general direction of the childrens toys. He blundered round the corner of the aisle straight into a very large display stand of DVD's , CD's and various other items of Harry Potter crapola . The whole lot went over with a very large crash scattering merchandise everywhere .Shop assistants and rubber necking shoppers rushed from every direction.
I was just thinking OMG .
Just as the the crowd all skidded to a halt at the sight of festive devistation Mr C as quick as a flash (hang over my ass) announced loudly . "
" Iam so sorry , its my friend , he has just been allowed out of hospital for Christmas . He has a brain Tumour " . He then scanned the crown and hammered home the point with " A BRAIN TUMOUR . At this point there was an audible collective gasp and a general clutching of pearls. All eyes swivelled it my direction.
I thought OMG and must have looked thoroughly wretched .
Mr C who was not to be stopped then chimed in with "frankly the poor soul doesn't know where he is"
Everybody sighed
I thought OMFG , and then thought well I had better start picking the bloody stuff up .
As I picked up the first few items a little girly , must have only been about 12 and on her first Christmas job came up to me and put a kindly hand on my arm and said in a very soft voice " Don't you worry Sir , we will pick them up for you , you run along and have a lovely Christmas"
She then made shooing motions , with "Off you go".
Mr C had scarpered off at speed with the trolley .
I was fucking mortified .
When I finally caught up with Mr C who as lurking in home baking , giggling away to himself .
I protested!
I was told , shame on me for playing the brain tumour card and I needed to transport him to a more upmarket emporium immediately as I had publically embarrassed him and he could never shop here again .
With this he magestically exited the store like a battleship in full sail.
Wanker !
Everybody sighed
I thought OMFG , and then thought well I had better start picking the bloody stuff up .
As I picked up the first few items a little girly , must have only been about 12 and on her first Christmas job came up to me and put a kindly hand on my arm and said in a very soft voice " Don't you worry Sir , we will pick them up for you , you run along and have a lovely Christmas"
She then made shooing motions , with "Off you go".
Mr C had scarpered off at speed with the trolley .
I was fucking mortified .
When I finally caught up with Mr C who as lurking in home baking , giggling away to himself .
I protested!
I was told , shame on me for playing the brain tumour card and I needed to transport him to a more upmarket emporium immediately as I had publically embarrassed him and he could never shop here again .
With this he magestically exited the store like a battleship in full sail.
Wanker !
25 comments:
Good to know that Mr C is still in fine fettle!
Two posts in as many days! With these posts you are spoiling us.
Sx
Now I want a pyramid of Ferrero Rocher. Thanks, Ms Scarlet!
As for your Xmas shenanigans, it seems some things never change. There should be a hurricane named after Mr C as he is quite the force of nature.
A hurricane, Mr. DeVice? Well, it's true that Beast produces an awful lot of wind.
I can hear his duvet flapping in the "breeze" from here, Very Mistress.
I meant to ask earlier, is that Mavis Boyle doing her weekly shop in the picture?
He is a feind Mr Ivd. Typical
Miss scarlet is obsessed with chocolate
And Miss MJ is obsessed with flatulence
Lavish has changed his name to Gladys Gusset and moved to Penge
Who the feck is lavish....Mavis
I'd banish that predictive text demon if I were you - It clearly doesn't know you at all!
Lavish needs his on blog! Perhaps he could write about chocolate?
My new blog is HERE Mr Beastie. Today I have written a fine post about bath mats. Oh, and you did get a mention, as you did on a few other posts that were published today. You are big news in the blogosphere.
Sx
It doesn't like that link Miss scarlet
I DON'T KNOW HOW ****wails beast***
HERE I have tried again :-)
Ack.... predictive text is fun.
Sx
Beast is already so yesterday.
I am going over to Miss Scarlet's to read about bath mats.
Well, at least they were nice to you in the store. And after all that, I hope Mr C found the right gifts worth all the drama. At the very least, some delicious chocolate candy for you for all your troubles and chauffeuring.
Beast, I'm only acquaainted with you form long ago comments over at that harridan's Infomaniac (who I've noticed has mostly dropped the "Mistress" part. I suppose she doesn't want people to know she's a spinster.)
Bu Spinster Infomaniac spread the news that you had a bout of cancer and actually survived and I wanted to congratulate you. There hasn't been very much of that lately,
Only to be met with the first Christmas post of the year. Oh dear.
Thank you Mr Peenee. I like to think of Miss MJ as a minx rather than a spinster
So you're back in full style! And do you tell me? No you do not. I had to find it out off the wall of a public restroom. This cracked me up so bad I cannot begin to describe it, btw :D
"So you're back in full style! And do you tell me? No you do not. I had to find it out off the wall of a public restroom."
Exactly that could be saied about you too, "Steve".
I can't believe I'm siding with Beast over Mr. Peenee.
Oh, and Mr. Peenee? Beast is talking about Christmas past in this post. We shall have to endure his tales of past Easters and numerous bank holidays before he gets around to Christmas 2017.
Back this train up a minute...
Is "Steve" our long-lost-to-Facebook Ms. First Nations? If so, why has no one told me and why has she not visited me? Did I need to find out from Beast's loo wall?
Someone tell me what's going on!
I winked on your blog ;)
Yes it is. Miss Nations has been very busy digging holes and molesting wombats to be chasing round blogs :-);
this is great...
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