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Wednesday, April 09, 2008

I almost bought this at the weekend...

Let's rock.It's a 12-string guitar, a 7-string guitar and a 6-string guitar, all built into one ridiculously huge, and probably unplayable, behemoth. And I wanted it. Although I'm not entirely sure why. For a start it's got approximately 19 strings more than I need. I think it was the colour that appealed to me. And the fact that I wanted to see the reaction from my local music shop when I walked in and asked for a case.

Anyway, it was being sold by one of those wacky Germans that seem to populate the guitar section of Ebay. David Hasselhoff aside, they're all into prog rock over there, which probably explains a lot. Although even Genesis in the 1970s might have thought twice about this thing. It must be like wearing a millstone around your neck. Frankly, by the time you've finished strumming the first chorus, you'd have to go and see a chiropractor.

But I don't let things like that put me off. It's almost a year to the day since I bought a guitar from a barking Bavarian, and I haven't regretted it for a single moment. I haven't played it for a single moment either, but that's beside the point. It's a conversation piece. Or it would be if you could see it through the layer of dust.

Anyway, with a couple of hours to go, the triple-necked beauty above was standing at about eighty quid, but after a flurry of late bids, it ended up slipping away for £165. I was willing to part with a hundred pounds or so, but with postage it came to £190, and frankly the only way I'll spend that sort of money on something I'll never use is if Lisa loses her second engagement ring.

Anyhoo, considered purchases aside, I had my final hour of I.T. training at work this morning. I'm now fully up to speed on the pharmacy computer system. At least that's what they think. Interestingly, having taught me how to requisition a tube of ointment for the genito-urinary department, my trainer then asked me when my baby's due, which took me by surprise because I'd forgotten I'd told her. Maybe she just thought I looked pregnant. But it gave me a chance to show her the scan photo in my wallet, whereupon she told me that she has a friend whose husband fainted at their first scan. And I thought I was squeamish.

Mind you, I found out yesterday that the hospital ask for a donation if you want a photo to take away, so by the time Lisa's finished picking her favourites and they hand me the bill, I might not be conscious myself.