Sunday, 8 July 2012

Some Enchanted Evening.

There is an ironing board in Tricia's house. I don't know why. Although come to think of it Granny uses it when she comes to visit. Not to lean on. She does have a walking stick. I did see her ironing once. I think Granny gets roped into doing chores when she visits. Perhaps that's why she doesn't visit often. She probably thinks of it as white slavery. Poor old dear. Still, it is good to keep her moving. Prevents her seizing up.

Where was I? The ironing board, that's it. While everyone's away and the house is quiet I thought I would take the opportunity to use the iron and the ironing board. I was going to an Open Mic night and, on the off chance that some gorgeous sexy woman might see potential in me as a love interest for the night I decided to iron my underpants. Of course me being such an indecisive type of bloke, I couldn't decide whether to wear boxers or my lucky Y-fronts. I have a pair of each you see. It was a mistake to buy those boxers. When I just had the one pair of Y-fronts, these decisions weren't necessary. It was simply a case of, if they needed washing I couldn't go out for the night. Although occasionally I would risk it, after giving my underpants a quick spray with scented Febreze fabric freshener (a wonderful invention by the way) and hope for the best. Or go commando. Which is no fun in the winter, when the temperature drops below freezing.

Well anyway, there I am happily ironing away. I'm singing too. "Some enchanted evening, you will see a stranger, you will see a stranger, across a crowded room, and somehow you know, you know even then. That somehow you'll see them again and again."

I'm well into the chorus when the phone rings. Blast, I thought, just when I was about to change key, for the bit that goes, "Once you have found her, never let her go, Once you have found her. Never. Let. Her. Goooo..." Sod it, I thought. Let it ring. Which I did. Which was lucky, because for the first time ever when singing that song, I managed to hit high 'C'. I felt really good about that. In fact I took it as an omen that tonight would be my lucky night with the ladies. I don't mind admitting, that the creases in my boxers were razor sharp after that. Yes I had decided on the boxers. But I was going to put the Y-fronts in my pocket, just in case!

The phone was being shrillingly insistent. So I answered it. "Hello."


"There's no Barb here. You have a wrong number."

"Sorry to bother you."

"That's OK,"I said. Thinking at the same time that he had nearly ruined my song. But the high 'C' had made me happy, so I felt benevolent. I could tell he was an old bloke too. Old people are always dialing wrong numbers. I put the receiver down.

A few seconds later it rang again. "Hello."


"You have the wrong number again."

"You're not Barb then?"

"No. There is no Barbara here sorry."

"Not Barbara. Barb. Barb the gardener."

I realised that because of his west country accent, what I thought was Barb, was actually Bob. "There is no Bob here either."

"Sorry to bother you." He put the phone down.

 A few seconds later it rang again. "Hello."

"Barb? Barb the gardener?"

"There's no Bob here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm quite certain. What number are you dialling?"

"I'm not sure if Barb starts with 551 or 552."

"Well this number starts with 551. So maybe you should try 552?"

"I need to speak to Barb the gardener."

"OK then, try the number that starts with 552."

"I'll do that then. Thank you."


A few seconds later it rang again. I pitched my voice lower. "Hello."

"Barb! Barb the gardener?" The old man sounded relieved.

"Barb speaking."

"Ah Barb. Bill Jones here. I was wondering if I could cancel Monday, and you come Tuesday instead?"

"No problem Bill. I'll make a note of that."

"Thanks Barb. It's just that I got to take the Missus to an 'ospital appointment Monday, that's all. An I don't know 'ow long it'll take."

"No problem at all. I'll see you Tuesday."

 "Ow's the wife Barb?"

"She's fine thanks."


"Yes they're fine."

"All right then Barb. See you Tuesday. Bye Barb."


What...? What...? Hey look. The old man was getting into a bit of a state. I only did it to stop him from worrying. I was being kind. Thoughtful. Caring even. What?

There is smoke. Oh no. My lucky Y-fronts! Good job I did buy those boxers! "Some enchanted evening..."


  1. Knock knock "who's there?"
    "Sam and Janet!"
    "Sam and Janet who?"
    "Sam and Janet Evening"
    Hope the open mic night was a success!

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  3. If you can sound like Giorgio Tozzi who sang the song for Rossano Brazzi in South Pacific you will have no problem except maybe how to deal with all those women at one time.

  4. Nice and funny post. Always enjoy reading what ever you post. Happy blogging to you and enjoy your night out

  5. I knew you were going to burn your underpants!

  6. Well, I hope you'll go round to his house now and wait in for Barb, it's the least you can do. One good thing, he obviously won't care if you have burnt underpants.

  7. I thought you were going to say that you then rang the 552...number and gave the message to Bob!

  8. I like the first comment. When your done ironing your underpants you can start on the facewashers like my MIL used to do.

    You should turn up to the old guy's house and do his gardening and earn a few bob for another pair of undies.

  9. You should have asked for the old man's address, think of the profit you could make doing his garden.
    Will you/have you record(ed) Some Enchanted Evening?

  10. You are going to get another call asking you why you (Bob) turned up on the wrong day.
    Jane x

  11. Hilarious!
    "Hello? Is you refrigerator running..."

  12. You had me laughing from the minute you fabreezed your underwear. What? You mean that wasn't supposed to be funny?