Cheltonians of type

Saturday is car wash day this week. Not something I do every Saturday, but the mood took me' and daughter so we got on with it and had a bit of a giggle in the process.

Car washing is one of those jobs the great British public like to do of a Sunday usually, but the weather seemed to have brought the whole street out to do the same. Fortuitous as you get to have a catch up with the neighbours and get a glimpse into their worlds.

Aunty S popped round for a cuppa, and managed to get her car washed in the process. She also invited us to a gig in Chelters that the headmaster was playing at. Feeling the need for a quiet night in, we gracefully declined.

Daughter had arranged a cinema trip with a couple of her mates before being on special night duty so she made the best of an afternoon nap. By early evening we all decided we should have dinner in town on such a warm and pleasant evening - and why not? A trip to Frankie & Benny's (one of those faux American restaurants) next to the cinema was the decision, and the Manhattan Burger was a superb accompaniment to a long cold glass of beer. Sat outside, the place was packed, so people watching was great fun.

Daughter had a steak and then went off to the cinema while Mrs G and I took a walk through town to the pub that Aunty S' gig was to take place in.

We thought we'd surprise her by secreting ourselves in a quiet corner and catching her on her way in. However, a peek through the door (and around the particularly wide and intimidating bouncer) led us to believe that the headmaster clearly has many body piercings, wears a mohican, leathers, DM's and sings thrash metal. Hmmm, perhaps not the place to relax of a summers evening unless you're tooled up.

So we made the entirely sane decision to wander up to the Montpellier wine bar in the very 'nice' part of town. People watching here is something else entirely. It's an establishment that plays host to very particular 'type' of cheltonian. All deck shoes, White chinos and expensive cardigans draped over the shoulder - I'm sure you know what I mean. Millionaires suntans and women that should know better than to fawn over such vacuous individuals. I've said it before, but it is a very special sort of fun to watch the wannabes who park their porches on the double yellow lines because they think they're a babe magnet, only to be seen an hour or so later getting in with their chinese for one, to trundle home to a 3-bed semi, re-runs of 'top gear' on Dave, alone, in the dark, on the sofa, in their underpants. A sad life.

From here a walk around Montpellier gardens led us to discover an impromptu music festival. As is the way of Cheltenham, many people were to be seen picnicking while watching the band playing some pop/funk/jazz type tunes all for free for those that were interested. We watched for a while then caught the bus home for tomorrow holds a day of sport...

Must just leave you with this starfleet gem courtesy of Dilbert...