Harold has popped round to bring me up to date with his love life.
The last we heard, Olga had been into his pocket for a few hundred quid: recompense for costs incurred after he backed out of tying the knot; or at least meeting her at the airport armed with a fisftful of roses.
That latter option, of course, was no option at all, Harold having spun her a tale about owning half the county and being on first name terms with the Queen.
The going rate at the time was £1500 after which, Mrs C informed me (following an unusually large sherry), Olga would also go, and not be seen again this side of Armageddon.
I told Harold much the same – omitting details of the sherry (and any references to ‘fool’) – but he told me his mind was made up and he would do the ‘decent thing’.
It seems he did, and coughed up the readies by ‘Paypal’, which is, he informs me, a financial transfer between friends.
Deciding to finally come clean – though only up to a point – he also told her he’d lost his entire fortune after investing it in soap. The company had been undercut by a man in China and he was now as poor as a church mouse. Still, he had his health, and that was all that mattered. He assumed she would feel the same.
She said she didn’t feel the same at all, and that she would need some time to ‘think things over’. In the meantime, however, could he be more precise as to what he meant by ‘lost his entire fortune’. Harold wrote back and said he meant all of it, that being the usual meaning of the words ‘lost’ and ‘entire’.
He hasn’t heard from her since and hopes she’s all right. He wonders if perhaps he should phone the Russian Embassy and have them send a man round to make sure she hasn’t done anything silly.
I tell him not to worry and that, in the world of electronic romance, there are probably lots more Keira Knightley lookalikes paddling in the pool. He thinks things over for a few seconds, then mutters something about magicians and domestic life not really mixing, so he may have had a lucky escape.
When I tell Mrs C, she responds that if you call being £1500 down on the deal to a woman in Vladivostok called Olga, but whose real name is probably Boris, then he may be right. Boris she adds, has got off lightly.
In the meantime, Mrs and Mrs Spam have been in touch again:
i always say, simple is best and your website demonstrates it so well.
I’m not entirely sure I haven’t been insulted there. And as for this one – they seem to be accusing me of pinching stuff from other people!
I found something similar elsewhere.
On the subject of which, people do sometimes say the funniest things. Here are a few examples. (I’ve removed any reference to the speaker’s identity. I’ve no wish to hold politicians, police officers and TV announcers up to ridicule. That wouldn’t be fair.)
‘How mortally wounded is he?’
‘Let’s see if we can find someone who speaks braille…’
‘So, can you point to anywhere on the map that’s undiscovered?’
‘Having a baby is one of the hardest and most strenuous things known to man.’
‘We appeal for anyone who may or may not have seen something suspicious to come forward.’ (OK – that was a policeman!)
Thought for the Day
‘When I said his was a one-man show … I was speaking of the audience.’
(Nothing to do with Harold. Honest.)