7.30pm
"It's so long since I saw you," I tell Bee huffily, (She's an artist and has been in her studio for days) "I may not even recognise you in a line up if the policeman said 'can you point out your best friend.'
I'm pouting because I had to go to the gym on my own again this morning.
"Mad Bab's was trying to get me to sign up for The Great North Run," I say "and worse, Dr. Perverse was there." (It's actually Dr Purvis but stick around and you'll get the idea...and he's not a medical doctor but has PHD for studying soil or worm casts, or something like that.)
"No! Did he see you?"
"Not only that, he winked at me,"
"Eeeew, hope he didn't blow you a kiss as well." Bee says.
For your info' dear reader, as you haven't the pleasure of meeting him, Dr Perverse is not blessed with good looks, charm or style. Unfortunately, maybe as the result of the overindulgent mother he still lives with, he believes he has all three by the bucket full. He usually wears trousers that have legs that finish well above the ankle, a fly about 30cm long resulting in a waistband that fits snugly- just underneath his arm pits. They are made out of grey polyester and generate so much static they cling to his thighs and rub together with so much friction they're in danger of sparking electricity. Top that with a short sleeved vest worn under a see through shirt, a tweed jacket that probably fit when he was at high school in 1955, a florid face and a brush over hair style and you've got the picture. For reasons that shall remain a mystery until the ends of time, he thinks he's irresistibly attractive to women.
"Couldn't miss him, when I walked in he was on the floor mats, attempting a sit up."
"Tell me he wasn't wearing those cycling shorts again." Bee says.
"No, grey nylon top and matching 'tracky' bottoms this morning,"
"Nice," says Bee,"must have looked like a beached whale."
"Hmmm hmmm, just wish, I'd had a harpoon in my handbag."
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