Monday, July 30, 2007

That's neat, that's neat, that's neat, that's neat, I really love your tiger print ironing board


Being something of a twat at times, I’ve always loved Monday mornings, however today I can related to the rest of the world whom wake up with a depressed groan. I’m supposed to be going back to work on Wednesday (ain’t that a kick in the head?) and I don’t think that I’m fully ready to be reinstated in the working environment and I am currently racking my brain for possible and plausible ways for me to avoid going back until next Monday. Sadly my doctor’s note expires on the Wednesday, but I’m in the hospital on Thurs and on the Friday I’m hoping to leaves fairly early in order to get to the fair city of Leeds for Luke’s birthday felicitations. It all seems pointless really, plus there are a few more films I want to watch before I go back.

This weekend proved to be a success in all respects and Lisa and I made it past the finishing line and watched the final episode of Heroes. We both patted ourselves on the back for managing to watch the entire series (23 episodes- each one 40 mins long) in one week. Sadly, it’s left a huge void in our evenings’ viewing.

Amongst other things, Lisa tricked me into acquiring a new ironing board. We’ve needed a new one since we first moved into together some 2 and a half years ago. One of my key contributions to the household (besides the pile of guitars/amps/keyboards and tea spillage) was my Tiger print ironing board which has been in my care for some 8 years.

Way back when, when I first moved back to Liverpool I rented a small one roomed bed-sit. I did have to share a kitchen and a bathroom with the other four tenants, which was a complete nightmare and the main reason for my talent at being able to urinate into plant pots or other small receptacles, but I got to meet some other blokes of a similar age group, which whilst not making any long lasting friendships was for the most part a positive experience. One such chap was the previous owner of the aforementioned Tiger Print ironing board.

I’m pretty sure after several minutes of trying to remember; his name was either Jamie or Paul and was several years older than me at the time. He was pretty much the only other tenant who ever would knock on my door and be pro active in starting a conversation. I remember the day he moved in. I left my flat to go to work I was greeted with the sight of a very, very attractive blonde girl in a fake fur coat, tight jeans and FMBs. I was immediately elated that I would be having such and attractive tenant. I locked my door, took a deep breathe and walked over to her to introduce myself. She clocked me and gave me a warm and friendly smile. As I got closer a tall fella’ with collar length hair came of the room and quickly thrust one of his giant hands out in my direction. After shaking it heartily he explained that he was the new tenant and had moved up to Liverpool to be closer to his girlfriend. I think he was from Wakefield or Huddersfield- either way he was from my neck of the woods. I remember thinking that I would have moved from Australia to be near her. He was very proud of her, as any man would be, and looked like the cat who’d got the cream.

Anyhow, he would knock on my door from time to time to ask to borrow the odd item of food or a lighter, the usual neighbourly type conversations. I never ever invited him into my flat, it was a door step friendship.

On one particular occasion, he knocked on my door and asked if he could borrow my mobile phone to contact his girlfriend as the pay phone located on our landing was out of order. I let him, but wasn’t too pleased that he’d ask such a favour. He had promised that he’d only be a minute or so, but after five minutes I started to pace up and down in my room, chuntering obscenities under my breath and looking at the clock.

Several minutes later, after wearing the cheap carpet thread bare, I heard the familiar knock upon my door. I opened it and there he was with his hand outstretched with my phone. He didn’t look good though and I could tell that something was a miss.

“She’s just dumped me” He said, sounding slightly dazed and understandably dejected.

I gave some generic words of support and pulled sympathetic grimaces as he explained what had happened. For a moment when he looked like he was about to burst out crying, I almost broke convention and invited him into my room, but thankfully thought better of it.
I did feel sorry for him and thought it amusing that he was dumped on my phone, in some funny way, I actually felt responsible.

The next time I saw him was a couple of weeks later and he was back to his usual buoyant self. He informed me that he was moving back to Yorkshire the following week and thanked me for all the things I’d leant to him. I, in return, thanked him for all the things he’s leant to me; though both he and I knew that I’d never borrowed anything from him during his short tenure.

Later that week I spotted a man who I assumed to be his father, helping him move his stuff into a people carrier. I sneaked into my room to avoid helping.

I was strumming my guitar gently and watching TV when I heard that unmistakable knock on my door. When I opened it, he was stood there beaming with a Tiger Print ironing board under his arm.

He knew that I’d been using a bass amp and a towel to iron my clothes and offered me this monstrosity.

“My brother gave this to me, when he moved in with his girlfriend. I think it’s time for me to pass it on to you”

I joked that I was honoured- but I liked the story of it being a symbol for bachelorism and thanked him for this thoughtful present. I wished him well and I never saw him again.

At the time, I assumed that I would have this ironing board for another year, perhaps two, as I figured that Lisa and I would soon be living together. It took another six years and three more homes before I managed to convince her it would be a good idea. By the time we did move in, I was the only one of the two of us who was an ironing board owner and despite her hatred of hit, we’ve used it ever since.

I did promise to buy a new one about a year ago but for the usual reasons I never actually got around to doing it. At least once a fortnight Lisa’s reminded me of this fact.

So I was tricked into buying one at Home & Bargain yesterday. I told Lisa I am unhappy to part company with the ole tiger print until I had found a suitable home for it. I mentioned that about a year ago, I had offered it to Jack- the only bachelor I knew. Alas, he didn’t want it despite being suitably intrigued when I regaled the board’s origins.

Anyway, I’m going to iron some of my work clothes- that is if they still fit me. Sitting on my arse non stop for the past 6 weeks has resulted in me gaining a few pounds.

45 hours before I return to work...

Mp3’s
(follow link)

Pulp- Monday Morning

Palace Music- Work Hard-Play Hard

Dolly Parton- 9 to 5 (live version)

Yo La Tengo- Big Day Coming (demo version)

Dean Martin - Ain’t That a Kick in the Head

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