Early Birthdays.
Today, I went to my comedy partner Glyn's son's first birthday party.
While we were
there, my wife asked me when my last first birthday party was. I told her I
couldn’t remember, but it was probably in the early 1980s. I just don’t have
many one-year-old friends.
Most of the
parties from my childhood revolved around fast food. It seemed more glamorous then. Many
took place at the Wimpy in Stevenage. It looked like an
unstoppable chain. How wrong could we be?
They were simple
and innocent times. Back then, I didn’t find their Bender in a Bun even remotely amusing.
The highlight was an appearance from Mr Wimpy himself: a terrifying Beefeater-alike with a head that took up at least fifty percent of his body. Thankfully, these weren’t his
real features. It was someone in a skin suit. Presumably whichever staff member
drew the short straw that day.
Maybe it was the
company’s CEO? Whoever it was, they left an indelible mark on my memory. Eating in Wimpy was my ‘Nam. You should’ve been there, man. You should have
been there.