This morning I was meant to try and steal Germaine Greer's bra. She was due to do a talk at the book festival and I was going to go along and attempt to persuade her to part with her underwear.
I had gone to bed early, but hadn't been able to sleep. This wasn't only because of my impending bra heist: I was a little out of sorts after a few nights of over-indulgence. I hadn't actually nodded off until around 6am.
The phone rang at ten to eleven and I was asked if I was coming down. I was tired and feeling nervous and not sure I had a plan and was making excuses, when the news was suddenly broken to the person on the phone that Germaine had not been able to make it to Edinburgh. Apparently she was flying up on Easyjet, but she had only been carrying a work related ID card and didn't have her passport with her. In these terrorist sensitive times you need a passport to fly to Scotland from London and despite her fame she was not allowed on the flight.
I was actually quite pleased as I really wanted to go back to sleep, but it was a shame in term of my mission. A part of me wonders if she "forgot" her passport on purpose. Knowing full well what awaited her in Edinburgh. Perhaps my willingness to sleep with her in order to win her bra (as revealed in the show) had put terror into the heart of the previously fearless feminist.
She can run but she can't hide. Well not at the same time. Unless she happens to find herself in the middle of a pack of Marathon runners in which case she can do both at the same time. I will get her bra by unhooked or by crooked.
I was cursing the fact she hadn't flown up with BA. I would simply have had to go down to Heathrow and pick up her luggage from the thousands of lost bags and then I could have nicked her bra. Game Over!
I will bide my time. Be wary Greer. The days of your brassiere are numbered.
