Posted by Marmazet writes:
When I arrived at Oval tube station, I had a sudden and horrible realisation that I had forgotten to buy my lunch at the local shop. Eating a BLT and crisps is the main reason for going to the cricket really, cos my mum would probably make some acerbic comment if I ate that at home.
So I was already feeling a tad grumpy when the woman by the turnstile got all uppity because I was trying to swipe my membership card the wrong way round. However, my mood improved when the guy guarding the pavilion entrance smiled at me, even though I thought his uniform was hideous.
After I settled down in my seat, I heard my name being called and looked round to see the whole of my best friend’s family, sans my best friend (apparently she was out “having coffee” with someone, but I’m not convinced) at the end of the row. A painful hour or two of conversation with her mum followed, where we talked about the weather, her son’s exam results and how difficult it is to take the rubbish out when you have a bad back, amongst other things.
I was beginning to dose off through boredom and hunger when there was a sudden standing ovation. I hadn’t missed anything. It was just Mark Ramprakash walking out to bat. Thankfully, my friend’s family invited me to have tea with them in the restaurant, so I didn’t have an embarrassing sugar-low faint.
There were lovely finger sandwiches and cakes that resembled Mr Blobby and scones and jam. The jam called itself Strawberry Extra Jam and we pondered how jam could make itself extra for at least five minutes. The actual tea, however, was served out of ghastly tin thermoses with dirty stickers scrawled with the word ‘TEA’ in capitals. We thought that the tea was sufficiently expensive that Mr Oval-Restaurant could invest in a proper china teapot.
Most of the other people in the restaurant were only there so that they could watch the Man Utd v Newcastle game on TV, although two of the waitresses were watching the Olympic gymnastics on the other screen.
I went home, made some rice pudding and sat on the sofa in my pyjamas watching two episodes of Lewis back to back.
Lewis is good. It will never be as good as Morse of course but the story is that Lewis got fed up with Morse never paying for a round and won’t work with him anymore.
2 back to back episodes are just the perfect timing for a rice pud to cook too
What are the details on Ramprakash doing in there? I don’t see the point.
But i do want to know what your best friend’s mum’s son’s exam results were. Can you remember?
Heart-warming report – many thanks!
I heard my name being called and looked round to see the whole of my best friend’s family, sans my best friend (apparently she was out “having coffee” with someone, but I’m not convinced)
I don’t understand this bit Marmazet. What do you suspect her of? Being there and hiding from you? Being somewhere else and not drinking coffee?
She’s knocking off your boyfriend…
The brazen hussy.
Was the guy guarding the Pavilion entrance hot? I think we need more details about him.
Swiped your membership card!?!
Ooop North, we tears off a slip o paper.
Ceci– indeed, let rice pudding cook during first episode, ate the whole dish of it whilst watching the second!
D Charlton– 3 As I think… not that he seemed particularly bothered by the whole A-level thing.
Brian– I had just spent a week on holiday with her. I think she was fed up of seeing/hearing me. I think she was purposefully ‘bunking off’ meeting up with me. Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand if this is the case– I am a bit annoying most of the time.
Sarah– was it that obvious from what I said!?! I’m not sure wether this is more revealing about you or me…! Um, I think the best description is tall but not lanky, dark haired, bluey-green eyes… nice smile! Often found on the door to the Oval Pavilion…
Marmazet – probably says something about both of us!!
*makes notes ready for first visit to The Oval next year…*
Meant to say, by the way, fab match report. Most enjoyable!
Bugger – spelt your name wrong. Sorry!
That report is so evocative that I now have an urge to put the rubbish out (and it’s not even bin day), and then eat a tin of Ambrosia for breakfast. Marvellous.
You cannot compare Ambrosia rice pudding with the real home-made thing.
I once pondered the extra jam conundrum, so very much enjoyed that aspect. I didn’t solve the conundrum either. Perhaps now that I am older and wiser I should ponder it some more.
Excellent report.