So How Was Shayne for Me?

Bloody harrowing! We set off early for the meeting with Shayne, Miss P and mate in tow. Everything went fine until we hit the Hyde Road and the traffic ground to a halt. I wasn’t panicking or uncool, then my watch hit 8.30 and my inner voice told, “You ain’t going to get there in 15 minutes.”

And my inner-inner voice said, “High expectations, girls up early, and we’re listening to Shayne on the car radio, miss this and you’re a dead man.” I’ll cut to the chase. Some illegal and inconsiderate manoeuvres later, I hit the Key 103 bollards (not literally) chivvying the girls out at the barrier while I double-park on the cobblestones.

The idea was that they go in and I wait to run Miss P to the station for a homeward train. But I got carried upstairs for Buck’s Fizz and bacon barms, and excellent both were.

As it was, Shayne didn’t turn up until about 9am. Signed singles dished out and X-factor photos still to be posted.

In true Clayton style, Miss P managed to nut Shayne, accidentally, while moving herself to the photographer’s commands.

“A good day, a shield day” as Yozzer Hughes had it when rattling spears in the last Lord of the Rings.

As for me, I was rattled and no shield, but Shayne seemed a good bloke and unprecious, but then he should be. Time will tell.

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1 comment… Add yours
  • Blognor Regis 22nd December 2005

    Was that a coded message?

    Allo London ziz is Nighthawk…


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