Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Confessions

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Confessions

Article excerpt

Byline: By Lisa Marshall

Saturday

I turn up at my hairdresser's for my regular `roots and trim' appointment. I feel it's most important to look your best when you've got a special night out planned. You just never know who you might meet.

My hairdresser Angela is always keen to find out what antics I've been up to. I sometimes tell her things in confidence only to have people stop me in the street asking if I ended up going on a second date with the Roy Cropper look-a-like. Thanks, Angela.

So today, when she asks if I'm doing anything special that night, I cringe. She looks at me in eager anticipation.

"Errrr..I'm......goinglinedancingwithmymam" (thinking that if I said it quick enough, she would just ignore what I'd said).

"YER WHAT? YOU'RE HAVING ME ON?"

I manage to maintain a stony expression (which really is meant to portray the look of: carry on taking the mick and I'll take my roots elsewhere).

"THAT'S why Jean's not going to the bingo tonight. I remember now!" muttered the 72-year-old purple-haired lady in the next seat.

Angela manages to uncross her legs and wipe the black mascara off her cheeks about 10 minutes later in order to resume her duties and I leave the salon feeling suitably annoyed.

NEVER sacrifice your sense of style no matter where you're going. So, suitably clad in jeans and very trendy stiletto cowboy boots, I'm ready for the off. My father is trying so very hard to keep his laugh in that his face has turned purple.

"Your mam's obviously not going to tell you, so I will", he grins smugly.

"When I was reading the electricity meters in Blyth the other day, there was this couple who were about 80 and their invitations for the line dancing were given pride of place, propped up on their mantelpiece!"

I slam the door on my way out, drowning out the howling laughter from my father.

My mother and I pull up outside the local sports centre and walk up to reception. As my mother works for the sports centre, (hence, why we are showing our support for the evening ahead. It is a charity fund-raising event) she is recognised by the three men behind reception. …

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