So here, at last, is the *top secret* report of my infiltration of TV centre (screentest to be a weatherman). I suggest you burn it after you read it. Put a match in the floppy disc slot or something. So, I arrived at TV centre, purple and sweaty and far too early and went inside. In the reception they have lots of TVs showing Bergerac so that helped to calm my nerves. Charlie Hungerford was having some trouble with a bearded man and luckily Jim was on hand, "Bureau des etrangers!", with his brown leather jacket and rugged good looks. Then a lady came, and took me and a man called James through the high speed revolving doors into TV centre. The weather department is a long way from the entrance and when we got there it was being repaired. When you're about to have an interview the last thing you want to meet is a corridor full of ladders like we did, but we managed to avoid them all and were escorted into the office of Mr David Braime (my mum's favourite weatherman). By now I was pink with excitement. We spoke to his secretaries, who spent their time watching the telly, and I sneaked a look at the email subject lines that were lined up in the inbox on the computer screen. Mr Braime must be a closet biker, cos there were lots of emails about "biker conventions" and "biker friendly pubs". I was very nosy. On the notice board when the secretaries were having a cup of tea I saw a letter asking Mr Braime to a charity event with "TV's John Bardon ("Grandad" from Eastenders)". Wow. A true celebrity. Then it was time for the screentest. I met David, and shook his plastic hand, and he told me to pretend I was presenting the weather. He said, "Just say something like this" and said something very good about "fronts" and "sunny spells" and "rain in Scotland, clearing up later". I know it's his job but he really was very good. I was given "the magic button" and stood in front of the screen, and saw myself with my gangly arms duplicated on screens all about the room. Then it was my turn to give the weather and I was, to be honest, quite rubbish. "It's sunny down there, I think that's Cornwall, but it's cloudy up in Norway." Oh dear. We'll get in touch, they said, and within minutes I was flying out through the high speed revolving doors and onto my train home. I don't have much hopes for an interview, but you never know. Like my mum says, it's an experience, and they liked my shirt. On the way home I saw Larry the Frog in the back of a van with a sailor. "Hello duckie", he said, batting his eyelids and wiggling his bottom. No wonder he's doing so well in the list crush. "Look mummy it's a dinosaur!", said a little girl. "What's he doing with his tail?" There've been a lot of things happening in the last couple of weeks, all related to my relatives in some way. It's too much to explain it all, but it's been quite traumatic, as if the laws of the world had all gone mad for a fortnight. I'm exhausted. Sarah, I'm going to the RAH! and hopefully Arantxa is too. Also, if anyone has any spare tickets, could you get in touch? Bye Robin x +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+