Wednesday January 19, 2005
“The cooker’s ready to collect,” Graham said. “And I need paint.”
“Right you are,” I replied, snapping off my computer. “Now?”
While he’s deep in the make-over job Graham has absolute priority. Well, near-absolute, anyway. And he can’t get used to it. Normally I’d wriggle and dilly-dally over such an errand but just now, there’s not a lot that’s more important than keeping him supplied with necessary materials. He doesn’t seem able quite to adapt, however.
“Gulp,” he gulped. Well, there’s not much else you can do with a gulp but to gulp it, is there. “I wasn’t expecting such a rapid response.”
“They don’t call me Speedy Gonzalez for nothing.”
“Who calls you Speedy Gonzalez?”
“Well, no-one does. But if they did they wouldn’t be doing it for nothing.”
“That settles it.”
“You have finally, without a shadow of doubt, flipped your tile.”
“Oh. Fair enough. I suppose that means the coffee is on me, then?”
And that’s how come, when Graham marched into Costa Coffee this morning to find me sitting there, pencam at the ready, there was a large mug of coffee waiting for him. It seemed only fair.