Mayonnaise on the long table…

But first…
Dulltown, UK/Europe: Today’s confused film star is Jommy Lee Tones.

When I wandered into the café late yesterday afternoon (I go there late at this time of the year in the hope of avoiding all those miserable, but loud, Christmas shoppers fuelling up on sugary caffeine beverages mid-shop) I spotted Tony Mayonnaise, ne’er-do-well poet from the glory days of the Hull Surrealist League; he was sitting at the long table at the end in the company of a round lady with plenty of ginger hair wearing a bright flowery frock. They had an open laptop and some papers and folders set out in front of them.
I got my tea and scone and, hoping that Mayo hadn’t seen me, chose a table as far from them as possible, and sat at it.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he and the lady were occasionally glancing in my direction as they chatted. I nonchalantly buttered my scone.
After a few moments, he got up, crashed his chair around a bit, and sashayed across.’
‘Now then Davey-Boy.’ he said.
‘Hm…’ I said, and then I added, ‘Who’s your friend?’
Arts Council England – They might give me some money!’
‘I was just telling Gwendolyn, about the Surrealist Van, and how it…’
‘You haven’t got a van – you can’t drive Mayo!’
‘She doesn’t know that – will you put the latest contents of the Surrealist Van on that awful blog thing that you do Davey-Boy?’
‘Oh, you are such a charmer Tony! And no, do not sit down!’ I said, as he was threatening to pull a chair out.
‘Look, this is what’s in the Surrealist Van at the moment – Gwendolyn will be able to go and look at it online… You’d be doing me a big favour!’ He handed me a grubby piece of cardboard cut from a cornflakes packet with a list of items on the back of it, badly written in pencil:

Two cucumbers fastened together with six white nylon cable ties.
A loud gasp caught in a soap bubble.
A dozen tins of aerosol mushroom soup.
A thick hardback novel that smells of spitefulness.
One of Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s pencils.
Two adjectives fighting in a bowl of soapy water.
An owl pellet resting on the roof of a 1963 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud.
A pork pie hat, with a pork pie in it.
A large cardboard box of lovely possessions.
A piece of gum once chewed and then discarded by Harrison Ford.
A vat of live eels with a clever thought floating on the top.
A message from Her Majesty the Queen written out in raw pork sausages.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
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6 Responses to Mayonnaise on the long table…

  1. David Manley says:

    JBB eh? I vaguely remembered her as a very clever scientist but that was all…so I just ‘googled’ and discovered her to have won a Nobel for ‘radio pulsars’ whatever they are! I reckon they might be a good fit for the van?

  2. ” A loud gasp caught in a soap bubble” is my favourite quote of the day! 🙂 I shall use it at some point in a conversation

    • Dave Whatt says:

      Do let me know how it goes.

      • Well…I was having a conversation with someone at the checkout of Marks & Sparks, comparing yellow ticket items (as you do), and we got talking about the weather, flooding and how my drain sounds like a “loud gasp caught in a soap bubble” My checkout chum looked at me blankly…..”a what?” she said, suddenly piling on her reduced items very busily onto the conveyor belt and making no further comment. Ah well….

      • Dave Whatt says:

        You could have referred them to me I suppose…

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