Chris dreamed about me on Friday night. That in itself is not necessarily funny, so why did he wake up laughing his head off? I had better explain…
Undoubtedly, the strange dream was sparked by events the evening before. You see, earlier on we had gone to pick up our friend, Ron, from Bournemouth Airport and on the way home we were all starving so we thought we’d stop off at Honiton (forty-five minutes from home) for some excellent fish and chips. We arrived a little before closing, too late to sit in the restaurant area. Chris stayed with the car (on double yellow lines), Ron went off to the bathroom and I walked up to the take-away counter. A pleasant lady took my order for three pieces of cod and small chips while the man ahead of me on my side of the counter looked on bemused.
“Oh, sorry, did I queue jump?,” I apologised, “I thought you had ordered already.”
“It’s alright,” he said laughing.
“I’ll serve you your’s first,” the lady said, grasping the situation and putting things to right in an instant.
She wrapped the lone piece of cod resting in the hot cabinet, along with a portion of chips, and gave it to the man.
“And I’ll pay for fish and chips for my friends over there,” he said waving an arm in the direction of three other men standing by the window.
“No no, you go ahead with your’s and we’ll buy our own,” three jolly gentlemen answered their objections in unison.
“He must have had a win!” one of them said to me by way of explanation.
“That’s just what I was thinking,” I replied jocularly.
The first man went to the end of the counter and opened his parcel of fish and chips.
“Are they nice?” I asked.
“Have a try,” he responded, pushing the package closer to me and pulling back the white wrapping paper to reveal the golden and crispy delights within.
“I am hungry,” I said, “Are you sure?”
He nodded at the same time as I picked up a large chip.
“Delicious,” I added.
He offered me another just as Ron joined us.
“Is this your dad?” asked the man.
“No, Ron is my friend and neighbour,” I explained.
“That’s funny,” he said, “because that’s my name too.”
“But we call him Rabbit…” exclaimed the other chaps.
There was much laughing and a guessing game ensued, however I didn’t learn why they called him Rabbit. Our fish and chips were ready and a rather nonplussed Ron seemed eager to escort me back to the car. As you might have imagined the good-hearted fellows in the fish and chip shop were a tad on the merry side.
Now, I awoke on Saturday morning to the sound of Chris laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve just had this fantastical dream about you, ” Chris began and continued, “It was in two parts – you know how dreams can go from one thing to another without any rationale? – and in the first part you were driving a boat on an open stretch of water. There were two men with you in your boat, which was being pursued by another speedboat. You were having a great time speeding through the sea and throwing boxes and all sorts of rubbish at the other boat; it was a bit like Patriot Games (the film), when Sean Bean is being chased by Harrison Ford – and you were loving it.”
I imagined the scene and nodded my agreement.
“The second part has nothing to do with the previous one, but this was the one that was so amazing… You were coming out of a pub, you were in the middle with two men either side of you, linked arm in arm, and all five of you were singing “Oh, Sister Josephine”. You and the men sang the verses in unison but when it came to the chorus the men sang in harmony. You were word-perfect and I marvelled, especially as I didn’t even know if you knew that old song by Jake Thackray. And while you sang, a crowd gathered; and when you had finished the crowd applauded rapturously. You looked over at me and shrugged your shoulders, at the same time as raising your arms and opening your palms, as if to say, “One night with me!” Then I awoke and tried to think of the words to “Oh, Sister Josephine”… and I couldn’t think of any!”
I hasten to add that the fellows from the fish and chip shop at Honiton didn’t invite me to sing with them, and I wouldn’t have known the words in any case. But Chris and I checked it out on YouTube and it is a very amusing song – perhaps even more so if you could dream of me, flanked by two men either side, singing it outside a pub!
Jake Thackray – Sister Josephine – YouTube
► 2:34► 2:34Sister Josephine, Jake Thackray 1981. #music. Oh, Sister
What do all these policemen mean
By coming to the convent in a grim limousine
After Sister Josephine?
While you, Sister Josephine,
You sit with your boots up on the altar screen.
You smoke one last cigar.
What a funny nun you are!The policemen say that Josephine’s a burglar in disguise,
Big bad Norman – fifteen years on the run.
The sisters disbelieve it: No, that can’t be Josephine;
Just think about her tenderness towards the younger nuns.Oh, Sister Josephine,
They’re searching the chapel where you’ve been seen,
The nooks and the crannies of the nun’s canteen
After Sister Josephine.
While you, Sister Josephine,
You sip one farewell Benedictine
Before your au revoir.
A right funny nun you are!
Admittedly her hands are big and hairy
And embellished with a curious tattoo.
Admittedly her voice is on the deep side,
And she seems to shave more often than the other sisters do.
Oh, Sister Josephine,
Founder of the convent pontoon team,
They’re looking through your bundles of rare magazines
After Sister Josephine.
While you, Sister Josephine,
You give a goodbye sniff of benzedrine
To the convent budgerigar.
A bloody funny nun you are!
No longer will her snores ring through the chapel during prayers,
Nor her lustful moanings fill the stilly night.
No more empty bottles of altar wine come clunking from her cell.
No longer will the cloister toilet seat stand upright.
Oh, Sister Josephine,
Slipping through their fingers like Vaseline,
Leaving them to clutch your empty crinoline
After Sister Josephine.
While you, Sister Josephine,
Sprinting through the suburbs when last seen
Dressed only in your wimple and your rosary.
A right funny nun you seem to be!
[ These are Sister Josephine Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]
Yes, I remember Jake Thackray way back when…..he was pretty well unique, and his songs were always sharp and almost always very funny. R.I.P. Jake, who died in 1992.