In Which I Become A Casting Agent

A few days ago I had a call from a fellow blogger. He and his lady were shooting a video in the vicinity and did I know of any young couples. preferably late teens, boy being dark and girl being fair? I said that I did not but I knew a suitable couple who, despite being well into their twenties, were still able to get half-fare on public transport if they so desired, although being good honest people always told the fare collector that they were liable for the full whack. They also wanted someone dark and mid-thirties for an older version of the boy. I knew of a fairly fresh young fellow with the mature, dark looks that they were looking for.

Where was the video shoot to take place? Why - on the farm of Joe Bloggs who lives very close to us, practically beside us. The young actors made their way to my crib and at five minutes before the appointed hour we set off to Joe Bloggs' place. I have to admit that I was surprised it was going to be at Joe's as he is rather a taciturn fellow, hardly the type to get mixed up with media, arts and Country & Western types. The yard was deserted. Back home to phone Joe Bloggs only to find out they'd never heard of such a carry-on. Maybe it was the other Joe Bloggs who lived a mile up the road? So off me and my car-load of budding actors went to the other Joe Bloggs who lived opposite The House With A Beard on the Killyless Road. Mrs Joe Bloggs was most bemused and, natch, knew nothing of a video shoot. She thought, and it took her 10 rambling minutes to tell us so, that the action was probably taking place at The House With A Beard. Miss Hannah went in to enquire and it took the Man Of The House With A Beard 10 rambling minutes to tell her that it wasn't happening in his crib. Maybe it was the other Joe Bloggs who lived on the road to Ahoghill.

By now I was in despair. We were communicating through Bert on the landline back at our place because, believe it or not, all this had been arranged on landlines and nobody had anyone's mobile number and there we all were 'on location' or 'trying to get to location' without any way of getting in direct contact.

Eventually Bert saved the day. He'd taken a call from the main people and they were at Alec Bloggs who he knew well (everyone knows him) and it turns out he had a brother called Joe. We went back to our house, Bert took over the driving (for I was a nervous wreck) and drove us straight to the right place where fun, frolics and hilarity ensued.