Gimme skin

Back atcha

Last night I was at a sophisticated salon/soiree in West London.  And I met a woman who was perfectly nice in many ways.

She works in skin-care.

For a major company in the sector.

And we chit-chatted, as you do.

And at one point she said that she doesn’t own a TV.

And, quick as a flash, I came back with: That’s fine, I NEVER buy skin-care products.

We parted as equals.

Me with a nose that is, frankly, only held together by the layer of sebum lying beneath the skin.

And she with a Pointless or The Apprentice sized hole which she currently fills with friends, books, extensive skin-caring sessions, and that.

(I’m guessing, I didn’t actually ask because I was too busy high-fiving myself on the way to the toilet)

 

Next time:  The monk in Sussex who asked my Mum what a TV looked like, because he didn’t know.