A Cheesemonger

The friend who I went to Amalfi with was a Cheesemonger. I learned a lot about food with him. He even supplied world cheeses to the Royal Family. Once he invited me to Highgrove to meet Prince Charles. I didn’t go. I had three jobs at the time and could not afford the privilege. Not that I really wanted to be there that much. Had it been the weekend it would of been a different matter.

He was a manager at Paxton and Whitfield. We met when he came to me to get his hair cut. Yes, I was a hairdresser (stylist director to be precise.) But I lost the craft. Haven’t held a pair of cutting scissors in years. It was just a journey. Anyway, I made a big impression on him as I told him a very rude joke about an elephant. We just couldn’t stop laughing. Our friendship went on from there.

We had such fun together. My friend was gay and we would conquer Soho. I love Soho. It’s my favourite part of London. I love London.

My great uncle Frank was a Beefeater for the Queen. I’ve been visiting London all my life. Need to get back. Although, it’s changed. Many parts I loved are now dumps. It’s true. Overseas people buy extravagant homes then leave them empty to rot as a long term investment. Disrespectful, if you ask me.

I wonder how my friend is. Or whether he is still alive? The last I heard he was in South Africa. (The man on this video is random. Not Jeremy by the way.)

Quietly Quirky ©