Here we go

I look at the calendar on my phone, and it tells me that today is, indeed, a red-letter day. I know that it is my birthday today, but I have a sneaky feeling that something else is happening. Oh yes, H.I.'s daughter is getting married today as well.

Today I get to wear the Armani suit and the Crockett and Jones shoes at the same time. I'll probably throw on a Pierre Cardin tie too.

Once I am suited and booted, I will pick up a friend's 400 horsepower, black, Mercedes two-seater sports car and pick up the bride to deliver her to her near husband.

I say 'near' husband, and that also means that he is geographically quite close to where I pick up his near wife. The wedding venue is a matter of about 600 yards from their house. What a waste of 400 horse-power.

I suppose if the road is clear (not likely for Bath on a Saturday) and I really put my foot down and take the 90 degree bends as tight as possible, I might just about be able to approach the waiting guests at about 100 MPH. When I pull away to park up having dropped her off, I would have liked to have sprayed the congregation with a face-full of gravel, but I don't think the traction-control will allow it. No, they will just have to guess as to what this car is capable of, and so will I.

Poor daughter was been waiting for this day for over 40 years now, and has talked of little else for about one of them. I am really pleased for her and her lovely fiance, both of whom I love dearly. It is no real hardship to sacrifice one of my birthdays of no particular significance - honest.

I will try to show you some photos of the event, but I think they may be all copyrighted as soon as the light hits the back of the camera. You will just have to wait until 'Hello!' magazine comes out if you want to see how it all went - unless I come unstuck in the Mercedes, in which case you might see some pictures on the 9 o'clock news.

Think Robert Altman's 'A Wedding'.  I wish I could stop thinking that.