by Clarkson Wroe

Created on: June 12, 2008

FRIDAY EVENING WITH THE FAMOUS.

Much as I enjoy my Friday evening, after tennis, sessions at the pub with my usual partners I thought recently that it would be a change to enliven the occasion and decided to invite some interesting famous people along.

I booked the back room of my local, got Biddercome to organise some food, set out a few tables, stocked the bar and off we went. Spicer, Biddercome, Simcock and myself arrived early and eagerly awaited our guests, keen to see who, from the many invited, would actually show up.

The first to arrive was a chubby little Welshman who staggered a bit as he entered the room. He glanced quickly around spied the bar and made a beeline for it. "Who's that?" whispered Simcock. Being a teacher he is by far the least intelligent of my friends. "That's Dylan Thomas, the famous poet." I answered "You've been to Wales go and talk to him". He dutifully crossed the floor to do so, as two of the prettiest men I have ever seen flowed into the room, wearing smocks and silk scarves. Lord Byron and Percy Shelly had arrived. Behind them a nervous little figure with a rather large nose and huge spectacles peered in. "Isn't that Woody Allen?" said Spicer, the film officiado of our quartet. "Yes go and make him welcome" I said.

Biddercome looked a bit sheepish. "What's wrong?" I enquired. "I've laid on pork sausages and bacon" he muttered. I should have known better than leave the food arrangements to the author of "The Full English Breakfast".

By now the room was filling up, a moustachioed American confidently strode across to us and introduced himself as Mark Twain, he then quickly fell into conversation with James Joyce and G.K.Chesterton.

Simcock appeared at my shoulder "I'm struggling with Dylan Thomas" he said "I asked him about Wales and he said "Wales is the land of my fathers, and my fathers can have it" then he got stuck into the booze" Then Simcock got excited "Great I see you've invited Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen". I tutted "That's Oscar Wilde".

I was really pleased to see Winston Churchill arrive but a bit perturbed when George Bernard Shaw came in accompanied by his friend Lady Astor knowing that the latter had a definite "history" with our greatest ever Prime Minister.

Spicer was now between Woody Allen and the pair of pre Raphaelite poets, he was relating his Thursday afternoon golf round to them, hole by hole, a ritual that we have to put up with every Friday. Byron looked at him rather disdainfully and intoned "Prolonged endurance

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