I was taking the bus up to my management company Avalon today for a meeting with the evil Public Relations department. They publicise my shows, in return for which I give them a huge amount of money, which they spend on dangerous chemicals which they then throw in the faces of third world orphans. I can't really condone this behaviour and it is doubly evil that they perform this atrocity in the third world where they know they are unlikely to be brought to book and where they can bribe government officials, but it is only through them that I can get to write an article for British Airway's High Life magazine, a vital organ in getting bums on seats in Edinburgh. I have vowed that if I make any profit in Edinburgh this year, all of it will be spent on face salve which I will then post to the third world in an envelope marked "For the chemical scarred orphans." I think that this absolves me completely from responsibility. Even though I know that the high PR costs in Edinburgh mean that it is impossible for me to make a profit.
Anyway, I was on the top deck and when the bus stopped opposite Latimer Road tube I noticed something on the roof of the bus shelter. It was a large bunch of keys, about seven or eight at least, including a car key.
My heart sank for the poor owner of those keys. They looked like the keys to everything he owned, his home, his workplace and even his mode of transport. I presumed he hadn't placed them on top of that bus shelter himself. It would be a relatively safe place to hide them, I suppose, but inconvenient and always in danger of being spotted from the top of a bus.
More likely someone had stolen the keys - probably along with a bag containing other items - realised they were useless to them and then rather than leaving them somewhere where they might be found, had chosen to fling them into this inaccessible place, thus creating a fleeting moment of pleasure for themselves and compounding the misery of their victim.
Even if the keys had just been dropped or lost, someone had made the decision to lob them out of reach, finding this an hilarious joke. Unless there had been a bizarre accident where the keys had been knocked upwards out of the hand of the owner, but then you'd think he would have got a ladder to get them down.
We human beings can be horrible and vindictive creatures, whether we are making a bad situation even worse by disposing of stolen keys, or refusing to turn off our bus engine to help some people filming or walking out of a cafe knowing that you have been undercharged, but refusing to acknowledge it.
Let he who is without sin throw the first keys.
But if you have recently lost a big bunch of keys in the Ladbroke Grove area of London, then you might do as well to check out the roof of the bus shelter near the Westway sports centre on Bramley Road.
I am the modern day Bagpuss.
Kind of.
Except when I go to sleep, all my friends go out and have a good time without me.
