Friday 16 November 2007

Dishy Dave and curly kale

Yesterday Dishy Dave came to fix a dripping tap. Actually, he's not really called Dave and not really that dishy, but it makes me feel better when I tell Hubby that Dishy Dave called in to sort out my pipes. If this were Wisteria Drive he would no doubt be some muscle-bound twenty something hunk and would entice me into a spot of afternoon delight.
But it so isn't Wisteria Drive.
Hubby is a bit paranoid ever since we lived in Germany and a local workman came to touch up some paintwork in the hallway. Nine months later Son was born, coincidentally tall, blonde, blue-eyed and, well, aryan looking (Hubby is short, brown-eyed and what hair he has left is also brown). He has a suspicion -totally unfounded of course - that the paintwork isn't the only thing that Hans touched up.
But he needn't worry about Dishy Dave.
Dishy Dave is the wrong side of 35, with a receding hairline and an increasing waistline, despite having been on a diet forever - or at least since we arrived here, which is over a year ago now. He is on some blood group diet, which seems to involve him eating, wierdly, lots of curly kale. I know this because he has told me about it at length. When we used to get veggie boxes delivered I would save up the curly kale for him. When I saw his white van coming past I'd run out and offer it up, like some sacrifice to the Gods.
Anyway, his wife has just got a new job and he just got some great value jeans for his son from the sports shop in the retail park, and he's nearly fourteen stone now, despite the curly kale.
He told me all this, and much more, whilst fixing my dripping tap. Now I'm no plumbing expert, but I think that two hours is a fairly long time to spend fixing a tap, curly kale or no. However, this is nothing compared to the lengthy discussions we had earlier this year when there were several radiator valves that needed changing. You don't need to know the details, but after a couple of days, I began to feel that I had missed my true vocation and should have been a Relate counsellor.
This time, however, the Twins kept whingeing and refusing to have their juice and biscuit because of the 'scary man', and eventually I threw them into the buggy and legged it down to school to pick up Son.
Not only did I not have some snatched moments of passion with the handyman, I have reason to beleive he's been lying about the curly kale, too. I whipped into the shopping arcade to use the cash machine today and saw him in his van, parked outside the chippy, stuffing his face with something out of a paper parcel, and it didn't look green or curly in the slightest.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's May 2014 and I had a conversation with same workman on Friday and he told me you introduced him to curly Kale, how bizarre than I would then read this 2 days later.
Ps, he still likes curly kale 😊

Amy Waif said...

Ha ha, I'm not sure I introduced him to it, though! :)