I knew I'd arrived for certain when the woman slapping a mop around my feet asked me a couple of questions, neither of which I could make any sense of. The only word I could catch was "Dynasty".
Not wanting to appear impolite I was about to say "Yes I agree," when I discovered a very hard bit in my "M" burger.
Since I am always worried about the condition of my teeth, and desperate to avoid dentist bills, or any other bills for that matter, I used my tongue to try and identify and hopefully excavate the inedible bit. As it turned out the inedible bit was a bridge I'd had implanted back in the days when money flowed freely.
Desperate to retrieve it I was about to place a forefinger and thumb into my mouth when I noticed the cleaning lady stooping over me waiting for an answer to several questions I had missed. Joan Collins was definitely mentioned in one of them so I agreed that she still looked amazing for her age.
This must have been the wrong answer since the mop, and the blond woman dragging it, disappeared behind a brightly coloured door, leaving a vapour of disinfectant infused with french fries behind her. (Ambi Pur eat your heart out).
My bridge now stands in a glass in the kitchen shrouded in Steradent foam (Its actually a Pound land version it), acting as a reminder of the hard financial times both myself and many others now find ourselves in.
When its back where it belongs I'll know that the economy is on the up again.
I might even smile.
So who needs financial experts?
