Today I am not having lunch with Boris Becker. How should I be feeling about this? Surprised, disappointed, confused, relieved, nonplussed, forlorn, elated or indifferent? Once again I am not sure how I feel and cannot even begin to describe my current emotional state. Because to be fair, Boris never gave me reason to believe that we might be having lunch together. And I certainly never (wittingly at least) intimated that a luncheon might be on the cards for today.
Luncheon? What is a luncheon anyway? I never heard of anyone (Boris, or Prince Charles or Terry Nutkins or anyone) having a breakfasteon or a dinnereon so why luncheon? Who knows? Maybe Jimmy Wales knows. Jimmy Wales, someone else incidentally, that I am not having lunch with today in case you were wondering. But I digress. The point is not that I am not having lunch with Jimmy Wales, but that I am not lunching with the 3 times Champion of Wimbledon, Boris Becker. Why? Well, partly I imagine because Boris is busy. And I too am busy. Too busy for lunch? No, never. I always make time for lunch. I don't how to make time, if time can even be said to exist in any real sense but nevertheless I always manage to make some of it - for lunch. In this respect you could say I am slightly French, or Gallic - with the level of importance I attach to and my unwavering fondness for the second meal of the day - but only slightly. How do I feel about this? Bof.
One day I hope to meet Boris Becker and one day too I imagine Boris hopes to meet me. At some point in the future we will meet and talk about tennis and no doubt other sports (e.g basketball) and women and no doubt other female creatures (e.g cows) and we will get on so well like an amicable pair of old birds sitting in a tree that a lunch date will become an inevitable eventuality. It is just a matter of time and "time", as they (and when I say they, I mean Douglas Adams) say is, "is an illusion - lunchtime doubly so".
No comments:
Post a Comment