Took my Knicker Drawers to the flea, craft and vintage fair held monthly in our local arts and community centre.
This time the organisers gave me prime place, up on the piano podium. I like to think it was a reward, not a punishment.
But I turned the elevation into a bit of a disaster. Given the rise of a couple of inches on the nearest thing the room has to a stage, I kept tirelessly yelling to all comers that I've gone up in the world! Then I set about haranguing passers by.
I don't know what it was, but the psychological impact of a podium - perhaps making me think I was duty-bound to deliver something verbal - set my mouth off running in places it should know better than to babble.
People did not deserve being upbraided for their free use of Twitter, really, and maybe that approach didn't do me any favours. But it did, at times, feel good. And allowed me to finger point dramatically while trying to sell a witch's notebook to the young man who came round trying to persuade me to love baby Jesus.
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