There has been communication from Nevada, USA where the Shah is currently lolling working hard at a conference. Due to the time difference which is -8 hours, it is tricky finding a time for any of us to speak to one another when we are not variously in bed, at work or playing poker concentrating hard on riveting speakers.
Eventually I receive a text. It read as as follows:-
"Soz ddnt call. was in middle if (sic) poker tourny - bummer. Finshd 12th out of 206. missed out on prizes. hope ur kping well xxx"
Oh 'poker tourny' eh? So much for "No really, it's going to be quite hard work this conference..." and just WTF is 'hope ur kping well' supposed to mean? It sounds like something you would shriek at a deaf maiden aunt, rather than the loving and intimate discourse between two people separated by several thousand miles.
Later that evening the phone rings. Some garbled roaring emanates from the handset. TS rolls his eyes and chucks it at me sighing "it's dad" and resumes his in-depth analysis of re-runs of the Cricket World Cup final blaring from the TV (for which read a glassy-eyed expression and a bit of drool appearing at the corner of his mouth whilst his right hand paws feebly at a laptop).
I take the handset. "Hello?" There is some crackling and echoing and a noise that sounds like the McLaren wind tunnel going full pelt.
"Gwaouihsdouenaoidlcv" says the handset.
"Can't hear you!" I chirrup to hide my mounting irritation, for I know what the next word will be.
"fratopdlenmwes SKYPE" bellows the Shah.
"I can't remember my Skype id" I sigh.
"Feckbolloxshite adollaraminutefromthehotel" bawls the voice on the other end.
"Ah, that's better! Stand still and I'll be able to hear you perfectly."
We manage quite well until the Shah begins to gesticulate wildly during a description of his helicopter ride through the Grand Canyon at sunset, causing the signal to falter again, at which I begin to zone out a bit as I look out of the window at the rainy, grey windswept garden. He moves on, cracklingly, to an account of the Cirque du Soleil which was laid on for their entertainment after the opening day of the Conference. I realise Corrie will be starting soon.
You can go off people.
Eventually I receive a text. It read as as follows:-
"Soz ddnt call. was in middle if (sic) poker tourny - bummer. Finshd 12th out of 206. missed out on prizes. hope ur kping well xxx"
Oh 'poker tourny' eh? So much for "No really, it's going to be quite hard work this conference..." and just WTF is 'hope ur kping well' supposed to mean? It sounds like something you would shriek at a deaf maiden aunt, rather than the loving and intimate discourse between two people separated by several thousand miles.
Later that evening the phone rings. Some garbled roaring emanates from the handset. TS rolls his eyes and chucks it at me sighing "it's dad" and resumes his in-depth analysis of re-runs of the Cricket World Cup final blaring from the TV (for which read a glassy-eyed expression and a bit of drool appearing at the corner of his mouth whilst his right hand paws feebly at a laptop).
I take the handset. "Hello?" There is some crackling and echoing and a noise that sounds like the McLaren wind tunnel going full pelt.
"Gwaouihsdouenaoidlcv" says the handset.
"Can't hear you!" I chirrup to hide my mounting irritation, for I know what the next word will be.
"fratopdlenmwes SKYPE" bellows the Shah.
"I can't remember my Skype id" I sigh.
"Feckbolloxshite adollaraminutefromthehotel" bawls the voice on the other end.
"Ah, that's better! Stand still and I'll be able to hear you perfectly."
We manage quite well until the Shah begins to gesticulate wildly during a description of his helicopter ride through the Grand Canyon at sunset, causing the signal to falter again, at which I begin to zone out a bit as I look out of the window at the rainy, grey windswept garden. He moves on, cracklingly, to an account of the Cirque du Soleil which was laid on for their entertainment after the opening day of the Conference. I realise Corrie will be starting soon.
You can go off people.
I like corrie. Would like to see the Grand Canyon though. Do you play poker too??
ReplyDeleteI love these funny posts you do, they really make me laugh. And god love him I'm sure he's just trying to fit in with the other people at the conference. *ahem*
ReplyDeleteLibby - aha another corrie fan! I would LOVE to see the Grand Canyon - apparently, you get a helicopter out, either at sunrise or sunset, it takes you down the the bottom where you hop out and have a picnic, then it picks you up and flies you through the canyon to see the sunset, and then when it gets back to Las Vegas, swoops down Sunset Strip. Okay for some! No, I don't play poker, other than vast winnings, it holds no attraction for me, but I have learned a bit by watching over the Shah's shoulder when he plays online.
ReplyDeleteNSM - thank you for the compliment! Sadly, most of the funny stuff I write is firmly rooted in actual events in my house. Very little embellishment required! If you knew the Shah, you would know that he doesn't give a rat's arse about fitting in with anyone - he just goes his own sweet way!
ReplyDeleteYou have booked yourself a nice trip somewhere, with your leaving date being the minute The Shah gets home with all his washing, haven't you!!!!!
ReplyDeleteGod, Taz - I wish! I have been toying with the idea but have so far not found the energy to do anything about it. Or the money :(
ReplyDelete