Every so often My Other Dad will turn to me and ask, ‘Glitter? Are you busy tomorrow? Are you around? Would you be able to take the mutt for a walk? It’s just that neither myself or The Glamorous Blonde can do the old lunchtime walk…’. To this, nearly all of the time I’ll quite gladly reply in the affirmative, without really thinking about it, sucker for a bit of fur that I am and so problem solved. About five minutes later, he’ll turn and remark, ‘Ye still have keys, don’t ye?’ and I do indeed still have keys to their place, one of a few sets that seem to always be at the bottom of my handbag. I usually turn up, let myself in, have a lovely fag at the kitchen table while chatting to the mutt but that’s only after we’ve had the whole ‘Song & Dance I’m so happy to see you Glitter’ routine.
Set Number Two also belong to My Other Dad and the Glamorous Blonde, the keys to another house they have [they’re terribly posh!]. A bit further away than a scoot around the corner and past HQ, this one, as the house is across the country. I acquired this set last year during a particularly debauchery filled trip to bet on horses and watch girls struggle in their nice frocks against the fierce wind coming off the Atlantic. For the number of days I was there it was always a bit of a Pick’n’Mix as to who else would be in the house after I tip-toed in. There have been lots of lovely fags and much alcohol drank around that kitchen table as well!
Set Number Three actually belong to me. Festooned with ISPCA and Beaut.ie keyrings, an Elmo and a fluffy lion, this set includes two keys for work, 3 keys to get into my little place, one key that might have been for my place but the lock has since been changed and one key that is totally bent out of shape, a reminder never to get that drunk again.
Set number four should be keys to my parents house, especially as I’m staying there a couple of days a week now to cut down on my work commuting. But I actually don’t have keys to my parents place! I’ve neverhad keys to the house! Weird, huh? I moved out 17 and a half years ago and somehow, in all that time I’ve arrived at the house on the basis that ‘someone would be there to let me in’. Maybe, like twice, keys have been left in the so-secret-yet-it’ll-be-the-first-place-burglars-look place. I’ve often said I should have a set but never done anything about it. It’s kind of reassuring though. Someone will always be at home to let me in, bombard me with questions about my day and give me an immediate update on where Molly & Fizzy are and what they’re up to.
I get custody of Set Number Four Point One on a temporary basis. These are the keys to McSmile’s place. I can tell you that it’s only between approximately 11am and noon on a Sunday, when my insomniac little self cannot stay in bed any longer, even if we did only get in at like 3 and proceed to have a few drinks til 6am. McSmile is one for staying in bed though, til forever on a Sunday it has to be said. It’s just better all round if I take myself and a set of keys down to the Spar, purchase The Sunday Times, whatever I’m in the mood for and a carbohydrate-rich list of his demands that he kindly asks for. The first time this happened, I swear, they nearly burned a hole in my bag! ‘Twas a bit weird. He handed me the keys, I went down to the shop, I let myself back in and breathed deeply handing them back.
Having someone else’s keys is a bit funny. You don’t know when they’ll come in useful, or what doors they might actually open!