The hot topic in the steam room tonight was Nuts: the Nutritional Benefits Thereof. The latest newsletter from the health club management was apparently full of top tips about how to get enough nuts in your diet. Allegedly – I haven’t seen it – the management say nuts are the new garlic-and-tomatoes. It sounded a pretty outlandish claim to me – I mean, how is a handful of brazils and walnuts going to help anyone make a nice spaghetti Bolognese? How would home-made tomato soup turn out if based around a mix of almonds and hazelnuts? Barely adequately, one would have thought.
Anyhow, the topic of nuts held no-one’s interest for long and conversation moved onto speculation about what would be the upshot if a certain club member, who’s built more for endurance than speed, were to take a running jump into the spa pool, while The Boys were in it. Apparently he had recently tried this feat in the swimming pool, with unfortunate results. Not realising the pool is only three feet deep at its deepest, he incurred a nasty crack to the coccyx.
I hardly need mention the opportunities exploited for crack- and coccyx-based jokes, but “a trip to A&E all round,” seemed to be the consensus on what the resulting tsunami would produce if their absent chum were allowed to carry out his daring leap while the spa pool was occupied.
Next on the agenda was last week’s visit by the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh to the town, to open the newly-refurbished college. Nick said the royals had been greeted by a load of students dressed and made up as aliens. The college does courses in make-up and tv/film production, among other things, so I daresay their choice of dress was something to do with their studies, but Tim said no, they weren’t students, they must have been just the people of the town, come to have a gawp at the Queen. Bill asked if they were wearing Crocs with white socks and grubby tracksuit bottoms; if so, they were definitely the townsfolk, on their way to an afternoon at the Wetherspoons.
Rory then did a rather good impersonation of Prince Philip asking if they could pop into the local Iceland for a spot of shopping when they’d finished opening the college; and the Queen replying that there was no need, the freezer at the Palace was full.
This reminded Bill of a rather coarse joke involving someone bending over the frozen chicken freezer at Iceland. He withheld the rude words though, out of consideration for the “ladies” present, so I thought it only respectful not to repeat the one I’d heard about the obscene phone call and the television-watching husband. If anyone wants to hear it I can repeat it privately, but it does have a very rude word in it – and anyway, I’ve already revealed the punchline, so best not to bother.
Anyway, when conversation turns to Iceland – as it does frighteningly frequently, Rory claiming to be an avid fan of frozen party snacks – I always know we’re in dangerous territory because it means we’re about to start a tedious conversation about Shopping. Never believe anyone who tells you that it’s women who like talking about shopping. Most women I know find the process pretty tedious. But the Boys in the Steam Room love it – and the more budget the better. That lot could form a Lidl and Aldi appreciation society.