Just call me Stanley - late_bland

Just call me Stanley

It's raining, and Dr Livingstone is back in the Bottle Shop.

We get a fair few eccentrics shuffling around the arcade. Often they are just your average shouter-and-gibberer, your bog-standard wild-eyed mutterer who smells of old biscuits and wee. Seedy Carl was one such derelict (albeit one with a particularly pungent aroma and an overriding obsession with fine wine). But every now and then somebody genuinely bizarre graces us with their presence. Dr Livingstone very definitely falls into this latter category.

He first wandered into the shop on a rainy Tuesday about a month ago. Just your everyday middle-aged, average looking punter, except in two (and I think you'll agree, quite major) respects - not only was he sporting the largest, most luxuriant handlebar moustache that I have seen outside of a Victorian lithograph, but he also had an over-sized pith helmet perched on his head.

I couldn't help myself.

Me: Doctor Livingstone, I presume?

He looked at me blankly. I pointed at the helmet.

Me: Doctor Livingstone... you know, the helmet?

He reached up slowly and gently touched the helmet, as if surprised to find it there, then let his arm drop back by his side. An uncomfortable silence descended, during which he stood very still and focused on a point somewhere above my left shoulder.

Me: So... um... can I help you with anything?

Dr Livingstone: It's raining.

Me: I'm sorry?

Mutely, he pointed outside where it was, indeed, raining.

Me: Do you want to buy some wine?

He pondered this, then shook his head. The pith helmet wobbled comically, and slipped down over one ear. Absently, he straightened it.

Me: Are you sheltering from the rain?

The pith helmet inched down over his eyes as he nodded.

I considered the pros and cons of throwing him out of the shop. Pros - if I ejected him, I wouldn't have to field any questions from Marxist Jim of the "What the f**k is a guy in a f**king pith helmet doing cluttering up my shop?" variety. Cons - if he has a pith helmet, he may well also have the machete to go with it, and I happen to be very attached to all my limbs and assorted extremeties.

Me: Well, okay, you can stay. But if a big, angry-looking bloke comes in can you at least pretend to be browsing?

He nodded again, readjusted his headgear, then proceeded to stand stock-still in the corner of the shop for the best part of four hours. I had almost forgotten he was there, when suddenly the rain stopped and the sun came out, galvanizing him into action - he straightened up, tipped his helmet to me and strode briskly out of the door, leaving your beloved narrator more than a little dumbfounded.

And now Dr Livingstone is back, standing by the New World wines like a refugee from Boy's Own Adventures while the rain beats against the shop windows. We really do attract a better class of nutter here at the Bottle Shop. Strangely, Marxist Jim is being quite reasonable about the whole thing.

Marxist Jim: What is that f**ker doing? He's been staring at that f**king bottle of Sonoma Creek for the past half an hour.

Me: He's... uh... browsing.

Marxist Jim: Late, browsing by definition involves looking at more than one f**king bottle. Are you going to tell me what the f**k is going on with that c**t, or am I going to have to hold you upside down by the f**king ankles?

Me: He's sheltering from the rain.

Marxist Jim: But it's been raining all f**king morning.

Me: Mm. Yeah.

Marxist Jim: What, am I operating some sort of f**king drop-in centre for aqua-f**king-phobic Victorian explorers now?

Me: It would seem so, yes.

Marxist Jim glared at me, then cast a suspicious glance across the shop to where Dr Livingston stood staring into space. Then he shrugged.

Marxist Jim: F**k it, he seems harmless enough. But if he breaks anything, it's coming out of your wages.

That was earlier today. Dr Livingstone still hasn't moved and I'm considering using him as an umbrella stand. I sincerely hope it stops raining before closing time, otherwise he's going to find himself locked in the shop. And the last thing I want to see when I open up tomorrow is a moustachioed madman standing in a pool of his own piss.

The Bottle Shop recommendation for today: Yalumba 'Y' Series Viognier 2004 (Australia). A dry, crisply peachy wine with a headily perfumed nose. The sort of wine the real Livingstone might have quaffed after discovering the source of the Nile. £6.99

24.8.05 13:51

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To date 12 Comment(s) TrackBack-URL

(24.8.05 14:11)
lol. the umbrella stand idea might work.

(24.8.05 14:31)
A human umbrella stand would be an interesting a talking point but you're right about the piss, it's no way to face the start of the day.

(24.8.05 22:05)
Hee hee. =D Another wonderfully crafted entry in a brilliantly witty blog. I feel quite jealous of you for having such an interesting new acquaintance.

(24.8.05 22:27)
Have him stand in a large bucket, it can double as a piss and rain collector. Or have him upturn his helmet and hold it between his legs...so he can pith in it!(Sorry, i couldn't resist).

(25.8.05 22:05)
Here's a sweetie for being the only blog to make me giggle like a little school girl on prozac watching monty python in a humourous situation.

(27.8.05 01:50)
Can I borrow him? I would like him to stand in my office for a few hours. And why is it I can only picture him as the great White Hunter from Jumanji??

Purpletiara / Website (27.8.05 07:43)
Hey love your work! Just thought I'd drop a line from Aus. Glad you like our wines .
As for the umbrella stand idea... what would you do if he just nicked off with the umbrellas in the rain???

Purpletiara / Website (27.8.05 07:59)
Hey love your work! Just thought I'd drop a line from Aus. Glad you like our wines .
As for the umbrella stand idea... what would you do if he just knicked off with the umbrellas in the rain???

(29.8.05 15:53)
I originally came about this blog from one, G. Wizz, as seen above, and have followed it ever since. I say ever since, but I only really heard about it today. I have only read this entry, and from what I have seen, you are a well educated young man with about as much potential as the worlds best footballer working in marketing.
What I am trying to say is, to get your point across to the world, like you so blatantly deserve to do, cease that oppertunity like there's no tomorrow. After all, there may not be.

juicy m / Website (30.8.05 11:23)
He sounds great - you should see if you can hire him out to do dinner parties, he'd make an interesting talking piece.

(30.8.05 12:26)
And another masterpiece, late ....

snag (30.8.05 19:13)
Ah, but where would you hang the umbrella? Please tell me you'll cease that particular opportunity.