We arrived and the crowd were a smallish bunch of middle class interesting people who worked for a company that makes small ‘urology’ type devices for surgeons who repair people’s toilet parts!

It was nice room but the setting was quite intimidating as the room was set for dinner and not really conducive to performing.

I walked into the room, the people at the tables all turned to look at me, they were watching intently. I stood at the front of the people, put one finger in my ear and said clearly “You all thought this was a conference, well…please don’t stare into the cameras” I pointed into the corners of the room and continued “My name is Janey, this is not a comedy gig, we are here from Channel Four, just want to let you know you have all been sacked”

The room fell even more silent, their shocked faces stared at me, I put my finger into my ear and ran to the first person and said “reaction?”

Then I laughed and told them it was a comedy gig and that was my opening line….how they laughed!

They really were a nice bunch of urology folks and the gig went on fine.

I wrapped up the gig and we drove home, then I realised we needed supplies for the journey today to Nottingham, so we stopped off at the giant Tesco store.

It was now after midnight and I love shopping at this time, except the staff have a different ghetto blaster that pumps out music at every fucking different aisle as the stack all the shelves, its like shopping in a loud confused disco, just for the record the Organic section is gay or at least the music is!

Husband and I were in electronics and as I teetered about in my high heel boots and fussed with freshly applied lip gloss, I felt something hit my feet, I looked down and there was a ball. I expected to look along the aisle and find a child who had booted the ball to me in between the plasma screens and toasters.

But it was a young man in his twenties, his friend who was standing behind me looked at me and smiled sheepishly and spoke to his footballing friend “Tom stop that”

Husband smiled and everyone carried on staring at goods, I then flicked my sharp booted toe under the ball towards the guy and shouted “for the head”

He immediately jumped up and headed the ball straight back at me.

He smiled and had a mischievous look on his face that challenged me to go on, so I did.

I swung my handbag over my back and had the ball at my feet, running in high heels was not easy but goals were to be scored, Tom smiled but took a defensive stance just at the end of the television aisle, husband stood in shock, the other guy gasped as Tom and I went head to head in sliding tackle, we collided, there were no injuries and no subs came on the ‘field’. We got back up.

I ran towards him, he thought I was going to deflect the ball off the plasma tellies, but I just let him think that was my tactic, I slipped the ball from feet to feet and as I got closer he spread his legs to defend the goal, I passed it easily through his open legs, leapt over his right feet and screamed with glee as the ball hit the goals…well I say ‘goal’ it belted into the organic veg section which technically was the goal. Tom cheered and slid to the floor shouting “The lady has scored”

I ran up the aisle laughing towards him and we both cheered, husband stood with Toms friend, both of them looked like we were toddlers and they were the patient fathers waiting on the wee ones getting back to good behaviour befitting a supermarket visit.

Tom smiled, winked and said “Good game Godley”

He knew my name!

Husband spoke loudly “Food to buy come on” and laughed as my footballing friend and I said goodbye.

“He knew my name” I said to husband.

“You are a famous footballer, of course he knows your name” husband replied with a serious face “You will be playing for Celtic soon”.

I may be old, but not too old for game of supermarket football.

I am off to Nottingham for three days work, I may be late or inconsistent with the blog as my laptop has broke, so bear with me.

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