I am not fooled by this.
John Twonil has volunteered to do charitable work, driving the Community Bus. Since then, he has been extolling the virtues of the role and trying to get us all to join him.
“Just because you got press-ganged in the Village Shop,” I point out. “Anyway, I think you’ll be the ideal bus driver.”
John Twonil persists, but I am adamant. I already do my good work with the snooker club, restocking the bar occasionally and doing the sausages when it is my turn. I cannot be expected to devote my whole life to charity, like Bob Geldof.
The subject is changed. I twist awkwardly on my bar stool. Due to the ongoing washing machine situation, I have been wearing the same pair of pants for three days, and I am relieved that nobody has noticed. I would not want to be the cause of comment.
The next morning, I ring the Washing Machine Repair Man once more. The awaited part has arrived!!! But they have sent the wrong part. He will have to order the part again.
I take a basket of pants round to Eddie’s. He does not know how to use his washing machine, but his wife, Eddie, leaves it programmed with detergent in it, so all he needs to do is press the button. Eddie washes some pants for me. I thank him, but I feel that I am taking the community’s goodwill a bit far.