I expect you’ve heard this a million times before
But I absolutely adored your last play
I went four times—and now to think
That here I am actually talking to you!
It’s thrilling! Honestly it is, I mean,
It’s always thrilling isn’t it to meet someone really celebrated?
I mean someone who really does things.
I expect all this is a terrible bore for you.
After all you go everywhere and know everybody.
It must be wonderful to go absolutely everywhere
And know absolutely everybody and—Oh dear—
Then to have to listen to someone like me,
I mean someone absolutely ordinary just one of your public.
No on will believe me when I tell them
That I have actually been talking to the great man himself.
It must be wonderful to be so frightfully brainy
And know all the things that you know.
I’m not brainy a bit, neither is my husband,
Just plain humdrum that’s what we are.
But we do come up to town occasionally
And go to shows and things. Actually my husband
Is quite a good critic, not professionally of course,
What I mean is that he isn’t all that easily pleased.
He doesn’t like everything. Oh no not by any means.
He simply hated that thing at the Haymarket
Which everybody went on about. “Rubbish,” he said,
Straight out like that, “Damned Rubbish!”
I nearly died because heaps of people were listening,
But that’s quite typical of him. He just says what he thinks.
and he can’t stand all this highbrow stuff—
Do you know what I mean?— All these plays about people being miserable
And never getting what they want, and not even committing suicide
But just being absolutely wretched. He says he goes to the theatre
To have a good time. That’s why he simply loves all your things,
I mean they relaxed him and he doesn’t have to think.
And he certainly does love a good laugh.
You should have seen him the other night when we went to that film
With what’s her name in it—I can’t remember the title,
I thought he’d have a fit, honestly I did.
You must know the one I mean, the one about the man who comes home
And find his wife has been carrying on with his best friend
And of course he’s furious at first and then he decides to teach her a lesson,
You must have seen it. I wish I could remember the name
But that’s absolutely typical of me, I’ve got a head like a sieve,
I keep on forgetting things, and as for names— well!
I just cannot for the life of me remember them.
Faces, yes, I never forget a face, because I happen to be naturally observant
And always have been ever since I was a tiny kiddie,
But names! Oh, dear! I’m quite hopeless.
I feel such a fool sometimes
I do honestly.