Another manufactured fuss over nothing. Apparently the streets at night are full of gangs of middle aged women and groups of young hairdressers heading to the local Odeon to watch some light porn. It's the spoof reports of DIY shops preparing for a rush on the ropes and padlocks aisle that puzzled me. I can just visualise the scene the next morning, after an embarrassed silence;
"Right, Jonathan, I think you can put those things back in the shed and we'll say no more about."
Oddly, it reminds me of another first paragraph of the book I never got round to finishing... well starting actually, (I'm now considering a book of beginnings).
"The downward spiral in Edward Townsley's life could be traced to the moment he decided to invoke a spirit of adventure in the marital bed. Years of commuting on the 06:39 from Godalming, a repressived life as a good corporate citizen, mixed with a heady cocktail of alcohol and spirited bonhomie invoked by a school reunion, created a combustible mix of a born again adolescent faced with a stern and regimented Surrey housewife was only going to have one outcome.
It seemed a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, when repeated by his wife"s barrister in court his inspired and colourful idea sounded cheap, tawdry and to some ears downright offensive. Edward bowed his head and both the judge and court stenographer blushed more than was likely as the barrister concluded his withering assault on Edwards previously unblemished character."