DO you ever think : What if it's me?

Here are some occasions when the Great Raymondo thinks ‘What If it’s Me?’

·         When playing the lottery.

·         When someone says ‘what’s that smell ?’– ever so slightly paranoid as I am.

·         When people talk about who is next in line for the throne after Harry

·         When Police Cars go past with their sirens on, even if I haven’t stolen from TK Maxx that day (arg, gnash, guilt, perhaps they found footage from two-years ago etc etc)

·         When someone says ‘who’s round is it’ while looking right at me and shaking their glass. This is closely followed by me looking at my handful of bacon fries and whistling.

·         When looking for the cause of it all going wrong. This is followed by a cold, dismissive laugh and a shake of the head.

‘What if it’s me?’ like ‘I should really call my mother’ is a thought which occurs to many, so I have cast my net out into the world of my friends and drawn in some interesting responses:

Louise: What if it was me in the Japanese earthquake?

Tom : When I am looking around at the mouthbreathing swill that makes up the world around me, munching contentedly on tasteless excrement, grinning idiotically with their loved-up lifemates, reaping the fiscal rewards of an inanely materialistic culture sometimes I wonder if it’s me? What if I’m insane and they’re the sane ones?

Mum : (when a little girl) What if it’s me who gets to marry Prince Charles? (FYI, it wasn’t).

Jen :  I can’t think of anything. Je suis rubbish.

‘What if it’s me?’ is a question which can land on you in a state of joy, hope, horror, despair or pride. It is the question which accompanies all emotions. When it turns out that, in actual fact, it Is You, the question ‘And What Are You Going To Do About It?’ is the trickier one to answer, and the one that will ultimately define you.

And I’m sure my Mum would have made an excellent Princess, and wouldn’t have stood for any carrying on with Camilla nonsense.



Not my mother