Just the two of us

I spent the evening with Ted yesterday. It was nice to have a good catch-up, as the last few times I’ve been round his house it’s been full of drunk football fans. This time it was just he and I (or ‘us’ in old money)
He was full of good cheer. We chatted about The Open Championship and it took me ten minutes to realise we were talking about golf. Ted says I should have popped round on Sunday to watch it with him and I said ‘I wish I had done that, instead of being beaten up on a tennis court by a megalomaniac sex kitten.’
Ted also talked about watching the highlights of something called ‘Fish-o-mania’ on Sunday, and expressed his disappointment at missing Raymond van Barneveld’s nine-dart finish. He really does love his sport. If Sky showed an afternoon of snail racing and the Latvian ten-pin bowling championships he’d tune in to watch. Some women would go spare if their husbands watched that much sport, but I think Beryl loves it, because if he’s in his armchair watching telly, he’s not out in the garden getting sozzled or getting on at her in the kitchen.
He asked if I’d like to re-start our Sunday Afternoon Chess Club. I said ‘to be honest, I’d rather have my eyebrows plucked out one hair at a time by a blind babboon armed with rusty tweezers.’
I explained my reticence at getting weekly beatings again, and I think he understood my feelings, so we’re going to try learning something new together. The plan is to play something we’re both inexperienced in, so we can play on an even footing and learn from each other as we go.
He’s suggested something called Mah Jongg, which I’m sure he’s made up. It doesn’t sound like a hobby to me, it sounds more like the name of a Klingon.

RC 21-7-10