Something vaguely interesting, dining across the divide
Its July, the middle of a dreadful summer and I’ve got nothing to do so I‘m surfing the internet. I find something vaguely interesting, The Guardian are offering a chance to have a discussion with someone who holds opposing views. A free meal is thrown in. I answer the questions on my views, submit my application.
Three weeks later I receive a phone call from The Guardian asking if I can meet someone else in a local pub.
“Yes I’ll be there” I say. Meanwhile I ransack my brains and vaguely remember what the whole thing is all about. “I assume the pub is accessible for a mobility scooter” I add’
Oh yes, the pub is accessible”, The Guardian reporter says
“Excellent” I say, “I’m looking forward to it”
The big day
I put on smart clothes, even polish my shoes. I’m ready to rock and roll so I set off for the pub. Getting there is not a problem. Entering the pub is a challenge. The entrance is narrow with hinged doors at each end, they are not easy to negotiate. I do eventually get into the pub but only with help. Problems with disabled access is a great ice breaker. It proves to be an ideal way to meet the person who is going to have lunch with me.
Something vaguely interesting
To find out about ‘Dining Across the Divide’, lunch and the interesting discussion click Guardian lunch
My friends and family
Three weeks later the article ‘Dining Across the Divide’ was published in The Guardian, but I was unaware. The journalist had done a good job but it was history to me because of my rotten memory. Let’s start with the reaction of my family.
My younger daughter choked over her breakfast when she opened the article and saw me. A few minutes later my older daughter demanded to know why she had not been told about this escapade earlier. Our WhatsApp was approaching meltdown and I still was only half dressed.
I get down-stairs and my brother and sister phone up to congratulate me. The WhatsApp group for our street give a link to the article and High Five me. I then go out shopping and people who I hardly know come up and say they have read the article in The Guardian.
At least I’m not a real celebrity
The life of a real celebrity must be awful. I quite happy that I had my ten minutes of fame In future I will be more careful when I find something vaguely interesting, If you are interested in something vaguely interesting then just click here