Smile

Never smile for newspapers. When your firm makes a loss they will print your photo on the financial pages with you smiling.
–Alan Sugar, British entrepreneur, The Observer, December 12, 1992

Thus spake Alan Michael Sugar, founder of Amstrad and TV star of The Apprentice. His harsh quote is hung on the walls of most budding tycoons. For eighteen years I refused to smile. Even in holiday photographs or at private parties. The family would try and cajole me, “Come on, it’s easy. Just curl the lips upwards”, still I remained steadfast in my sternness.

My unshakeable belief in Sugar’s maxim was almost broken on a few occasions. To force a smile and bring me happiness incredible gifts were given to me. Happiness usually goes hand in hand with smiling. My wife handed me a blue vinyl Bohemian Rhapsody and I could feel my lips quiver as I held in my hands a limited edition rarity; only 200 copies were pressed. Then I noticed blue paint underneath my fingernails. She had painted over a black vinyl issue (3 million sold, not very rare) with a dye of blue. This took the gloss off my joy and my lips curled downwards.

Other more frightening remedies were inflicted on me. The gang of them caught me by surprise and bound me hand and feet. Soon I was subjected to a prolonged session of tickling. Luckily, I had been taught interrogation resistance techniques from my mate, James Bond. He stayed just round the corner from my gran next to Elvis’s chip shop.

Being dour-faced has fringe benefits. By not chuckling I have no laughter lines and completely wrinkle free I can get on the bus for half price. Buying alcohol can be difficult, though. My facial immortality has been attributed to a Faustian pact. I tell my detractors I have never used cream or pacts on my face. My face will never crack.

And then yesterday I overheard two men arguing over whom was the funnier comedian: Michael McIntyre or Peter Kay? Both of them recited material from their favourites and I could feel a smile coming on. I bit my lip.

-I was doing some decorating, so I got out my step-ladder, I don’t get on with my real ladder.
-N for…erm…knickers.
-I’m not homophobic. I’m not scared of my house.
-We trust the fridge!

I laughed a loud hyena laugh. I’m not like Sugar any more; I’ve sweetened up. The uncontrollable laughter has made me look a hundred and eighty. Pass the Oil of Ulay, please.

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13 Comments on “Smile”


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.


  2. Hello JW!

    Smiles can dangerous. I was once taken in by a beautiful woman who was sitting at a nightclub bar. I’d only just arrived, and she smiled at me whilst I waited for the barman to pour me a drink, so I smiled back.

    Suddenly she yelled out at the top of her voice “No! I don't want to sleep with you!”.

    I looked at her aghast, grabbed my drink, and walked quickly away to a far table. It was obvious to me that the woman was a complete nutter, but I was annoyed that just about everybody in the nightclub was staring at me as I sat down.

    About five minutes later, she got up from her barstool and walked slowly over to my table. She sat down and apologised, explaining that she was doing a post-graduate degree in psychology and was studying how people react to embarrassing situations.

    So, at the top of my voice, I yelled:

    “Two-hundred euros? What do you mean, two-hundred euros???!”

    :-) 

    PS Sorry about my original deleted comment – too many typos!

  3. JW10 Says:

    Your gags always make me smile, CI, and that tale was no exception.

    The other day I was reading a book about a practical joker and one of his antics made me smile. One of us will have to re-enact his little caper. It goes like this.

    You are in a busy bus or train station and are struggling with a heavily-laden suitcase. You are moving at a snail’s pace. Stopping for constant rests you wonder if someone will offer some help. Eventually, because there’s always a good Samaritan about when you need one, someone will give you assistance. You ask them to try and lift the case and size up the weight. They do that and hurl the case over their head, losing balance in the process. The bag is empty, hollow, light.

    You try it first, this weekend, say, and tell me how you got on.
    🙂

  4. Expat Says:

    Oh, JW, that reminds me of the first time my husband was served a beer in a chilled (ugh)plastic pint pot here in the US. He thought it was glass, hefted it up…and threw the entire contents all over himself and the people behind him.


  5. hello JW of The Smiling – liked Peter Kay best of those, but what about Bill Bailey?
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oS_nG7v6hpQ

    This link is his chipshop song in honour of Billy Brag – chose it cos it's brief, but anything of his is Fantabulous!

  6. JW10 Says:

    Hello Expat,

    Yes, we've all had malfunctions and misunderstandings with our drinks over the years. Once I was pretty drunk (not ugly drunk as this was in the pre-wrinkles days) and concentrating hard on showing off by carrying three pint glasses from the bar. An unknown patron in the bar asked me for the time.
    OOOOPS!

  7. JW10 Says:

    Hello Dolores,

    No need to be brief we've plenty of bandwidth on this channel. Have inserted your funny piece.
    Anymore, anybody? There's millions of space.

  8. JW10 Says:

    I haven't seen these beautiful, funny women before, CI. Thanks for the link.


  9. Actually JW, I'm thinking of re-engineering your caper by installing a seriously heavy heavy-duty battery in the suitcase which will power the drag-along wheels by a remote control in my pocket.

    The remote control will also power brakes for the suitcase wheels…

    I leave the rest to your fertile imagination…

    🙂


  10. Oh Yes! Remember Fascinating Aida from way back – they haven't changed a bit and still truffic!

  11. JW10 Says:

    Your dogger video has been noted and embedded, CI.


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