Stuff and Nonsense

I watched ‘Shrek the Halls’ tonight with the family. I think the story was based on my life and I’m not seeing a penny in royalties. Can I sue?

Lets examine the evidence..

First, there is more than a passing physical resemblence between Shrek and I. Anyone who knows me could attest.

Like me, Shrek has three offspring who confuse him with some invincible young person with boundless energy who is impervious to pain inflicted while ‘play’ fighting.

Like me, Shrek has a best friend who is annoyingly optimistic and has to be told quite clearly when his visit is over and it’s time to go home. Sorry Si – you know it’s true.

Like me, Shrek lives in a house that has too much stuff in for its size.

Like mine, Shrek’s house is in a swamp. Not literally of course. But I think of the swamp as a metaphor for living on a modern estate – despite this one being very pleasant by many measures.

There’s another similarity. Shrek likes his swamp too.

Shrek knows the only bastion of peace is the toilet. An Englishman’s home may be his castle but a Dad’s sanctuary is the loo.

Like me, Shrek has an appalling diet. This is because we both know that anything that lengthens the time we can plausibly remain in the throne room is a good thing.

When Shrek shouts, the family listen… then ignore him anyway.

Princess Fiona was a babe before he met her and now she’s an ogress. This is a statement of fact and unlike all the others above bears no resemblance to my life whatsoever.

Shrek is not at all scared of his wife.

In a London Starbucks today…

“Two cappuchinos, one earl grey tea, one breakfast tea and a cup of hot water please.”

“Would you like ice in the water?”

I think for a moment. Yes, that makes sense. My colleague who wants hot water will be able to drink it without 3rd degree burns so yes, ice makes sense to me.

“Yes please.”

Teas arrive. Coffees Arrive. Water arrives (with ice) in a plastic ‘glass’.

“This can’t be right…” methinks. I feel the ‘glass’. It’s cold – luckily, lest it collapse in a molten heap.

“Excuse me. I asked for a cup of hot water.”

“Hot water?”

“Yes”

Assistant 1 confers with assistant 2.

“Sorry sir, we do not do hot water.”

“Pardon?”

“We do not do hot water.”

“But my tea is hot. It’s made with water.”

“Yes, but it’s tea.”

“But it’s only water until you add the teabag. Until then, it’s hot water. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, but we can’t sell it.”

“Ah, I see…”

I gather my thoughts. I think the problem is they want to charge me for a cup of hot water (ok) but it’s not on the menu.

“Could I have a cup of tea without the teabag?”

“No teabag? No, sorry”.

I’m now starting to question my own sanity but the city type standing next to me hasn’t had this much fun in years.  I think I’ve got Starbucks man cornered now though, he’s not going to wriggle out of this. I have a cunning plan (kudos Baldrick)…

“Could I have a cup of tea please but please give me the tea bag. I don’t want the tea bag in the cup.”

“Sure, no problem, here you are sir”

He hands me the cup of hot water. And an orphaned tea bag.