Fancy Dress
Turning up in fancy dress is most fun when people don’t expect it. Granddad liked to attend funerals dressed as a Viking warrior. He’d put on a real show, bellowing war cries through an enormous stick-on ginger beard. It was quite intimidating up to the point where he’d get his wheelchair stuck on the chapel steps. When he died, the council refused us permission to burn him on a pyre. In the end we shoved him into Nan’s Aga.
When I’m in the mood for fish fingers (which is nearly every day!), I hop down to the shop dressed as a Vietnamese Prawn Fisherman from the 14th century. It is a very practical outfit that features dozens of special ‘prawn pockets’, which are also ideal for fish fingers as long as you don’t fill them will salt water first. The man in the shop thinks I’m a nutter. He may be right, but at least I’m not a fishmonger!
I once goose-stepped into the local Conservative Club dressed as Adolf Hitler. One old boy in the corner leapt to attention and gave me the Nazi salute, spilling his pint all over the floor. “Just as I always suspected”, I thought, but then noticed he was dressed as Neil Kinnock. Baffling eh?
Next time you go to the doctor try dressing up as a Consultant Obstetrician and asking: “Shall we take it in turns to do the examinations this time Doc?”