Feeling guilty about that earlier post now. Probably ought to say that my dad is a lovely, lovely man, and I'm pretty sure says stuff like that just to wind me up. And in case it sounds like I'm portraying myself as some kind of paragon of liberal sensitivity, I should all in all honesty relate the tale of when I took my friend and Canterbury bookshop colleague Matt C up to London Village to a showbiz partah.
Any cred points I might have hoped to accrued were somewhat dashed after we came out of the pub we'd decided to pop into on the way, and an archetypal Large Black Man waved over at us.
LBM: You guys want a ride?
ME: Matt, we have to go! He's offering us a stolen car!
MATT: Mate, he's a minicab driver.
Equally long pause.
MATT: Christ, you really are from Cornwall, aren't you?
I always felt the momentum of the evening never quite recovered from that point.
Anyway, I'm heading back up to London tomorrow (I'm much more sophisticated now - I'm aware that Charing Cross and Embankment are practically the same station, for example). Wednesday I'll be in Agent Ginny's office, phoning the film production company to see if my screenplay has rung all the right bells. Or, more likely, failed to even ring the wrong ones. Maybe it's better to try and get the hang of London before I go traipsing off to LA.
Wouldn't want to put their insurance up or anything.
NB: PP called while I was writing this, and said he was considering adding a comment to that earlier entry, backing up the 'my dad's very nice' point. Dad let him into the house and everything, despite PP being a Homosexualist Jewite. Although it was me who called him that. Within two days of meeting him. And then I licked the back of his neck in a staff meeting because someone dared me. It's funny the stuff you can get away with working in a in a bookshop. Although maybe it was just that one.
PP also would like it to be know that he recently saw Acorn Antiques, which had the pleasantest-smelling audience he had ever experienced. And lots of men who'd come in from out of town, clutching Paul Smith bags and trying to pick each other up in the bar. More news as it comes.
Paul Pennyfeather. Acorn Antiques. Gay.
I'm going now, in an attempt to stop digging myself out of a rapidly-deepening hole...