A Dapper Tomato.

I phoned Tomato on Saturday afternoon with an electrical enquiry. He sounded a bit despondent to hear that there would be no trip to Inverness on Sunday. I was quite fancying going as I needed to get yet another TV unit and aerial. The only thing stopping me was that I didn’t fancy getting up early for the boot. Suddenly an amazing idea popped into my head (they don’t call be the Alfred Einstein of Smalness for nothing you know.) Why not go to Inverness but skip the boot? This would allow a lie in. Tomato was up for the idea. I called Toast, he was delighted with the plan.
Due to my dabbling with the electrics of the house, I had to reset my alarm clock. As is my want I set the clock fast. However I think I set it a bit too fast. Arriving at Toast’s earlier than expected put him into a right kerrfunkle. My calming words of “don’t worry there’s no rush today” went unheeded. He rushed about the house, toothbrush in gob, patting pockets, looking in drawers and checking for the mail (there is no mail on a Sunday).
Arriving at Château Neuf De Pap we were met with an incredibly dapper Baron Tomato. His usually bouffant hair was slicked back and he modelled an incredibly white shirt. Toast queried what product was used on the hair. What else would the master penny pincher use but simple, free, water.
I have taken to sipping a tipple of Grand Marnier brandy of an eve. I am sure that it has amazing properties that makes one highly perceptive. I was noticing things this morning I’d never seen before; the glint of sunlight on a butterflies wing, the clarity of my windscreen and how it was a window into the future, a large wedge of forest missing from the black isle,…
Suddenly I snapped out of my cognac induced trip and found myself at the Tesco roundabout. This wasn’t right; I’d meant to go to Morrisons for their highly superior breakfast. We drove round and round the roundabout several times trying to decide whether to go to Tesco or head back to Morrisons, wheeee! Centrifugal forces finally flung us into the Tesco carpark, decision made.
In the good old days the Tesco breakfast queue would have stretched alarmingly into the store. These days one can get served almost immediately (this isn’t due to efficiency but the decline in popularity of the café due to it being shit). Toast and Tomato did a fancy backwards shuffle move and I found myself first in the queue. I frowned at the breakfast items, something wasn’t making sense but I couldn’t quite figure out what. Of course! That was it! I wasn’t having any breakfast; I launched myself out of the breakfast queue and headed for the tea section. Glancing back I saw that Toast looked aghast at his new top o’ the queue position. Fancying a snack with my brew I eyed what was on offer: A lemon meringue slice for £1.50, a Danish pastry for a similar ridiculous price, pah! I settled on a GIANT (apparently) choc chip cookie for 80p.
The cookie was made of fibreboard. I gnawed at it for and age not wanting to waste 80 pence. Toast made the accustomed soor face at his “folded over bacon”. Toast complained about a mushy in the middle sausage. Toast left the mushy sausage. Tomato having eaten both his sausages pronged Toasts unwanted wurst. Biting triumphantly into his free meat product he announced “it’s mushy in the middle!” and showed me. I’d already seen it as Toast had done the same. The bargain hunter amazingly took another bite. It was still mushy in the middle. Once again the trays were left on the table in protest. We left the table with puffed out chests, then spotting the female manager of the restaurant quietly skooked past.
Toast had an episode in Tesco that caused me to say “bloody hell”. We were looking at £2.97 dvd’s. Toast was eyeing up Jailed Amazon Women but decided against buying it; he tried to put the dvd back on the shelf but it wouldn’t fit in. It was as if someone had adjusted the shelving while we weren’t looking. At this point Toast went completely berserk; ramming the DVD into the shelf repeatedly and screeching “why do they make these things so that they don’t fit!!!!” whilst gesturing manically at the anti-theft device atop the unfortunate box. Uttering “bloody hell!” I edged away slowly.
In Argos I was once again baffled by the instructions on a chip and pin card scanning device. Why does every shop have a different machine and a different permutation to inserting the card? I couldn’t figure this one out from the diagram. The woman at the till testily grabbed the card and shoved it in to the slot (phwoar). Aha! This machine took the card upside down!
As Tomato and I stood pondering bird tables outside the pet shop Toast strode past in a manly fashion announcing that he was going to the hardware store. The possible purchase of a swanky bird table was pooh-poohed as Tomato uttered the fateful words “you could easily make one yourself”. In my head I was already measuring the timber. Of course I forget that my tool kit consists of a pair of pliers which double up as a hammer, a power screwdriver that doubles up as a hammer, a Stanley knife who’s blade protrudes at a queer angle and some Allen keys (imperial sizes).
I offered to lift a bag of birdseed to the car for Tomato. Whilst I power lifted the hundred weight of seed Tomato said “it says that it requires two men to lift the bag”. This made me feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Tomato cleared a space and I placed the birdseed in the boot of the car. Standing back to close the boot I found that I couldn’t. Tomato was still poncing about with an empty Lidl carrier bag. I watched him impatiently for a while then closed the boot lid on to his head. That stopped the carrier bag shenanigans. He was laughing but giddy, I took this to be a good sign so I strode off leaving him reeling about the carpark.
Toast stood in B&Q humming and hawing over paint for his window frames. We needed an expert ( I would have advised him to buy the horrible black paint) but Tomato was away using the free bathroom facilities (he wasn’t even needing to go but you know what he’s like when something’s free). He soon arrived and eventually worked out that B&Q didn’t have the special paint required. Tomato explained the exact chemical compound of the paint required and where about on an obscure industrial estate to buy it. Toast made the appropriate noises showing that he understood completely. However using my new cognac induced skills of hyper perception I looked inside his brain and saw a massive “?”
Upon dropping Tomato off I noticed that his hair was still slicked back, surely the water he applied first thing would have dried off by now? Aha! That may explain the visit to the facilities in B&Q. Case closed.