The Interview That Never Was.

       Phil phoned today. He is a reporter from the local paper. I thought he was phoning to find out where I live so that he could come and interview me, so I gave him directions to where I am. I was just about to say, "See you later," when I realised he was still talking. We had quite a conversation, and I was thinking, "Look mate, put the phone down. Get in your car and you will be here in fifteen minutes, and you can talk to me then."

He was really chatty, asking me all sorts of things, and I was asking him things too, about how long he had lived in the area? Did he enjoy his work? Did he have any kids? All those sorts of conversational things, one says when talking to someone you don't know.

Eventually he said, "Nice talking to you John," and I said, "Nice talking to you Phil." And he said, "Goodbye." And I laughed and said, "So when are you coming to interview me then Phil?" And he said, "That was the interview John." And I said, "Oh, I didn't realise." And he said, "Yes, I have got plenty of information. I shall phone you later to let you know when the photographer can come." And then we both said goodbye.

I can't for the life of me remember what I told him about the Ramshackle Gallery. I thought we were just making polite conversation. I even put clean clothes on because I thought he would want to come and see me. Well they were quite clean. I found them on the floor, so it is likely they had been worn, and hadn't yet made it to the laundry basket. Not likely to either, because I don't have a laundry basket. I did once have a cardboard box for dirty clothes, but it wore out and since then it has become traditional to throw dirty clothes on the floor. But never mind all that. I am really upset about the interview. There was so much I wanted to tell him about. I don't even think he realised that all the pictures are done by me. He probably thinks I am running a gallery for all the local artists. The whole thing is a complete mess.

The photographer is coming on the 26th of this month, that's about ten days time. I should be able to find a reasonably clean shirt by then. I might even have time to wash one and get it dry in time. If I am very careful I could use my hot air paint stripper to dry one. But I would have to be very careful indeed. I haven't yet got over the trauma of the last time I used it. Ruined a perfectly serviceable pair of Y- fronts. Actually, I seem to remember I lined the cats basket with a shirt. That might do.

How much do laundry baskets cost these days? If I sell a painting I might have enough money to buy one.
The reporters name is Phil. Did I tell you that? I can't remember. I suppose I could use the cats basket for dirty laundry. I have already made a start on that.

The whole thing is so annoying. Oh no! I just had a thought. Do you think he was recording me? Oh gawd! What did I say?

If I use the cats basket where will the cat sleep?