Facebook was going MENTAL last night with rumours that Robbie Williams was in St Ives. Between about 7 when the news first broke that he was in the Hub and about 11 when he was allegedly spotted buying some chips in the Balancing Eel, the hourly rate for babysitters went through the roof as all the thirtysomething 'rents in town tried to get somebody in at the last minute so they could go out and check out the rumour for themselves. Which was a bit of a pisser for me, actually, because I came within twenty minutes of having my first ever proper date. It was with a girl who doesn't go to our school, but who's mum teaches her at home because she's a bit disruptive. We were supposed to be going to the cinema together, but just as I was in the bathroom wondering whether she'd notice my nervous eczema, she rang up to say that somebody had asked her to babysit up Belyars right at the last minute, and because she didn't know them very well, or really know me very well come to that, she thought it best if I didn't ask if I could go with her.
Fair enough, I've never seen the point in all those teen slasher movies why lads want to go babysitting with girls, I mean I can't think of anything worse than having to sit there watching telly just waiting for the slasher to ring or some six year old to wander downstairs demanding a drink of water. But it just seemed like an excuse to me, and I got the impression she was winding me up, so I wandered over to our appointed meeting place anyway, the Co-op opposite the cinema, just on the off chance that she'd had a better offer and was meeting someone else instead. I'm not sure what I'd do if she was.
Well, I got there about five minutes before the time we'd agreed to meet, and hung about in a doorway where I could keep an eye on the Co-op and the cinema as well, but there was no sign of her. I gave it until ten minutes after the film had started before I gave up. I wasn't going to have to face her at school today, and nobody else knew, so at least this humiliation was just a private matter between me and my eczema. And not being funny or anything, but 'a bit disruptive' in this case means borderline special needs, so as a first date, actually I think I can probably do better.
Anyway, when I got fed up and cold with waiting, I go in the Co-op and there's this little guy in a long leather coat with a wooly scarf wrapped round his face and a furry trapper hat, hanging around in the instant desserts aisle. You couldn't see much of his face, but what you could see was quite tanned and a bit rodenty. I thought he was behaving a bit furtively at first, as if he was hiding, probably nicking stuff I thought, but then I decided that he wasn't used to shopping and didn't know what he wanted. My favourite is butterscotch angel delight, but there was only one packet of it, and he didn't seem as if he could make his mind up whether to buy it or not. Do you want this? he says, pointing at the angel delight. No, I said, I'm going to have this, and picked up a chocolate one. But if I were you I'd take that, it's the best decision you'll ever make. And I gave him the packet of butterscotch angel delight. He looked me straight in the face and smiled at me with these incredibly white teeth and really twinkly eyes. Do you think so? he said. I'll do that then. Yes, I will. Thanks for your advice, son.
I've never taken much notice of Robbie Williams, so it never crossed my mind that's who I'd just met in the Co-op, until I got home and facebook was going MENTAL about the rumours of him being in town, and then it all clicked into place. So when he announces he's rejoining Take That, I for one won't be surprised. I'd like to think that the story of how he made his mind up with the help of a spurned teenager with eczema and a packet of butterscotch angel delight in a Co-op in St Ives would become the stuff of legend. Mind you, he'll probably think it was a close encounter of the third kind and give all the credit to extra-terrestrials.
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