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The wrong trousers

I wake up feeling like my mouth was hijacked in the night and force fed kebabs. My mind immediately connects the following thoughts. Damn those little sausages… Hhhmmm dreamboat. The waiter with those jeans that had no belt and they just perfectly hugged him.
We get up. Only temporarily you understand, to take in the view of the beach from our ample terrace. ‘Is that Dreamboat in the restaurant down there’? I ask Tony with an inappropriate level of excitement in my voice. ‘Right, get in off the blinking balcony, you’re not allowed out here again’.
Tony gets up and makes a coffee asking, ‘you on sugar today or what’? ‘Yes please…but can you wet the spoon first and then dip it in the sugar, I just have the few granules on the spoon’. ‘Too late…too long interval after yes… anyway, why can’t you drink coffee like a normal person and why do you change the way you have it every day’. ‘Gotta keep a relationship fresh’.
Just chilling lazily drinking our coffee in bed. We watch the news and listen to two stories. One on how the police have downgraded the priority of domestic violence and another on how camping in Scotland is to be made illegal.
I comment, ‘so they’ve downgraded domestic violence but upgraded the importance of camping in Scotland, brilliant’. Tony responds pretending to be on a radio… ‘Yer can we get an APB out on a camper. He’s eating a sausage. Repeat he’s eating a sausage’. Hhhmmm dreamboat and his sausage. He continues, ‘hilarious, there’s now a news article on how far you can drop a golf ball. There’s people dying in the world and all we’re interested in is how far you can drop a golf ball’. ‘Just out of interest, how far can you drop a golf ball’?
We talk about one of our friends who also has MS and how she is also getting a FES but may have to pay for it. A FES is a type of shoe that sends electrical pulses that can help a person who can’t walk very well walk better. There’s three types from basic to more advanced. We have an appointment next month for Tony to get fitted for one on the NHS (UK free health service).
We get talking about this. Tony cracks me up, ‘you can bet I get the basic shoe on the NHS’…immediately making the sound of a moving piston. ‘Yer, you’ll be like Robocop’. ‘I’ll be like Wallace in the wrong trousers. I’ll be like hitting the walls and my legs will still be going’. I get up and start moving my legs like I’m in Wallace’s wrong trousers complete with sound effects saying, ‘this will be us walking down the street with me shouting wait for me Tony and you saying I can’t. I’ve got the wrong trousers…Winston even looks like Gromit’.
My turn to make coffee. Great I get to spoon dip the sugar. Tony comes into the kitchen. ‘What the heck. Why’s the kitchen soaked’? ‘Because I can’t quite get the taps right yet’. ‘There’s no quite about it! You can’t get them to work at all. Period. I wanted to make toast’. ‘That’s alright I’ll just dry the sides down’. ‘You’ll be better off using the mop. It’s like the frigging pipes have leaked in here’.
Someone in the apartment next door has a piano. They’re playing it and they’re good. It’s like having a concert pianist next door. It adds a dramatic feel to being in the shower but it’s very melancholy by the time I am cleaning my teeth and I’m near depression when it’s time for toast.
Tony asks, ‘where do you wanna go for lunch’? ‘To be honest, I’d be quite happy to go where we went last night’. ‘Yer I bet you bleeding would’.
A lady from a learning disability charity calls me. I am doing some volunteer work with them but she doesn’t know I’m away. My phone is turned down but my smart watch starts ringing. ‘What do I do honey’? In panic I answer the phone and talk into the watch together. Tony is absolutely beside himself with laughter and I don’t quite get why. He’s saying,’ speak into your phone you twat’, while I am still talking to my watch and phone, and I’m swatting him away with my hands while he starts taking pictures of me, which makes me wave my hands even more furiously at him.
The call ends or at least the caller says goodbye but I go from phone to watch not knowing what to do to end the call my end. Tony is still pissing himself saying, ‘you’re like Dick Tracey’. ‘Ssshh’, I say quietly, ‘she might be able to hear’. Tony is in tears.
I moan,’I don’t think I want this watch it’s shit. It can’t take calls, it can’t do email, it’s shit ugly, and it needs to charge for 24 hours just so I can tell the time once or twice a day. And look the clock face doesn’t even stay permanently lit up. I have to switch it on every bloody time I want to see the time. No casual clock watching and oh is that the time, must dash, any more. Oh no, I’ve got to switch it on, wait for it to do it’s thing and clumsily check it and then make excuses and leave. Seamless’.
Tony is in hysterics at this watch drama and laughs, ‘well its got a calculator and an alarm’. ‘Great. So does my phone. Though they’ll come in handy when I need to add up just how much electricity it takes to tell me the blinking time and when I’m timing the frigging spaghetti later. That’s it. I’m getting a new one on the flight home’. ‘No you aint. You get one every time we go abroad’. ‘Er, we haven’t been away on a holiday abroad for 2 years. Our last successful holiday was when we went to Great Yarmouth’!’ Yer and look what happened there’. ‘That’s got nothing to do with me getting a watch that I didn’t get’. ‘Alright Dick Tracey.’ ‘Get lost’.
What actually happened in Yarmouth was we were out walking Winston late and pissed when I saw a cat that had been run over and was bleeding. I took Tony and Winston home and tried to locate it. There was a bunch of drunken youths (this is a shit end of town) and I asked them to help. They laughed and told me to fuck off.
So I did. I saw the cat in a garden and I opened the iron gate in the front garden  (about 12am) meeting some resistance from the gate. It appears safety was of the utmost importance to this person as they’d placed a heavy terracotta pot against it probably to prevent some one from doing the very thing I was now doing, walking around in their garden late at night.
The cat went under a BBQ cover and was swiping after me before it jumped over the gate. There’s me trying to shut the gate, reapply the pot in its position before charging off after it.
Along come a pissed couple and they stop to help/scare the shit out of it making it charge off again before leaving. So I rung a local vet, called the emergency line, waited until 1.30am and several pees up an alley later, and no assistance, I went home. Next day we drove for hours looking for it. See I didn’t get a watch.
Anyway from Great Yarmouth to Gran Canaria (which to be honest is the way round you’d wanna do it).
We just chill. You know lunch and people watch. We’re just about to get the bill/wait annoyed for 14 days before I say, ‘wow, look honey, look, coming along now the lady in the brown trousers has the biggest Camel toe I’ve ever seen’. ‘What, where’?  ‘She’s down by the sea now. She might come back this way in a second’. ‘Right I’ll get another beer in then, I don’t think I’ve like actually seen one before’. ‘Oh no she’s going the other way and now you’ve added 2 more days onto the holiday ordering that beer’.
This conversation is happening while a lady is playing I would walk 500 miles and then Superman on some bagpipes. She comes over. I say I have no money but unzip all the compartments of my purse to prove it. After the last compartment she walks off. ‘Well that was awkward. Why didn’t you just say you didn’t have money without all that purse shit and is that Winston’s hair you’ve got in the back of your purse’? ‘Yer it’s my good luck charm. That’s why I can see camel toes and you don’t. They’re like Mermaids’. Someone starts playing Jaws on a harmonica. I think that just involves blowing from one end of the harmonica to the other to the theme of Jaws.
As we walk off excitedly I say, ‘look, look look, honey’, ‘What is it? Is the camel toe back’? ‘No, it’s the scientist from Back to the Future. He’s looking for the clock tower. He’s a dead ringer’ ‘Bloody hell yer. Look he’s talking to that other bloke. Do you think he’s asking him where he parked his DeLorean’? ‘Nah he’s asking what year it is and if he’s seen Marty Mcfly… I like his shirt though’. ‘What you can see of it. Most of him is trouser. His trousers are pulled up so far he could actually be Kenny from South Park’.
We come back for wine and a siesta and an hour later I’m woken up to ‘I’m easy like Sunday morning’ blaring out the TV. ‘Jeez, wtf’. ‘Yer the TV just started playing that really loudly for some reason’.
I lay on the sofa and watch TV while Tony makes coffee. He sits down. ‘Why are you watching German TV that looks like Holby City’? (UK TV hospital drama). ‘ Well its just on’. ‘You can’t be arsed to change the channel can you’? ‘No the remotes over there out of reach’, ‘well pick it up with your bleeding clowns feet’ (earlier blog). I say, ‘Nah, anyway I’m trying to set up a Twitter account to promote my blog. It seems to think I’ve got one. Apparently I’m just following Richard Branson and Gino D’Acampo’. Pissing himself Tony says, ‘give me your bloody phone’. Then laughing harder confirms, ‘you are actually just following Richard Branson and Gino D’Acampo’. ‘Yer, I know. Ridiculous right. I can’t even taste so why would I be interested in following bleeding Gino and anyway, you’re a Chef’.
I’ve only been here a short while and already the bread and booze is swelling me up. We have to take all our snaps now and I have to sit my chair behind Tony’s to make my face appear the same size as his in every selfie. I can also no longer decide what to wear based on the weather (its pants) but on what I can get into that doesn’t split my belly in two making it look like a bent over arse.
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