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Wednesday, 24 June 2009


When you learn a language it is interesting the order in which you pick up vocabulary and verbs. You start off with the obvious, necessary verbs and words you will need to ask or explain something and it grows from then on. When you work with children you find you learn words like octopus, cloud and wave and verbs to do with someone else ruining their life. It gets difficult when you realise you don't know how to say the verbs to miss or to deserve or take advantage. So it was with Alejandro the other day when I read a line from PG Wodehouse's Summer Lightning and the sentence 'when they saw young Parsloe coming, strong men winced and hid their valuables'. The good thing about a verb like wince is you can act it out which I did and then the pair of us continued in this vein everytime we mentioned undesirables.

Wince I did when I caught sight of the increasingly worrying spectacle known as Mr Harley Davidson AKA Mr Personality. A sight that was at the same time toe curling and wince inducing. I didn't know whether to curl up and moan like a dying animal or pretend I hadn't seen anything. It's the sort of feeling you get when you see a grown man dressed as Darth Vadar or Varder/Vada if you're going all Parlare. So, there he was vardering on across the roundabout at Plaza Santa Clara dressed to the nines, looking like he could do with a wash and wearing one of my bete noirs, those leather fingerless gloves that always remind me of my music teacher who wore the woollen version. As we drove round said roundabout his back pocket revealed a hanky dangling out a la Al Pacino Cruising style. I don't think this is the desired effect and I think someone should tell him before he finds himself on one of his concentraciones further afield. Henderson told me later that Mr Harley has been seen walking into the Bar Rugaca with his Nazi helmet under his arm but his bike parked in the garage back home. This didn't go unnoticed as half the bar felt compelled to tell him what a tosser he had turned into.

To end, my siesta as usual was accompanied by the weatherman back in Britain. As I drifted off I heard the words ' Jug of Pimms' which had Henderson sitting bolt upright. The last time he did this he was fast asleep snoring like a good 'un on a flight back from Bangkok. The stewardess was meandering her way up the aisle asking each passenger if they would like a drink. I vadered with expectant glee as he snored on and the hostess got closer. As each passenger wanted something soft the snores got louder until a man three seats back uttered the words Gin and Tonic and I've never seen anyone wake up so quickly and say 'me too'.

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