Me Life Story by Scarlett Moffatt (best classic books of all time txt) 📗

a little longer to become apparent. Lewis Carroll sums it up nicely in Alice in Wonderland:

‘One day Alice came to a fork in the road and

saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. “Which road do I take?”

she asked. “Where do you want to go?” was his response.

“I don’t know,” Alice answered. “Then,” said the cat,

“it doesn’t matter.”’

Chapter Twelve

‘YOU WANT ME TO WATCH THE TV FOR A LIVING?’

Gogglebox has now gone international: seventeen other countries have now got their very own Gogglebox including the USA (where it is called The People’s Couch) and Slovenia (where it is called God, Please Don’t Let the TV Die!).

In 2009, the United Nations proclaimed Mandela’s birthday (18 July) to be Nelson Mandela International Day. The holiday asks people to spend sixty-seven minutes doing something good for others, which represents the sixty-seven years he spent working towards change.

Pease pudding is known as Geordie caviar. It’s made from lots of squashed yellow split peas.

One of the big questions I always get stopped and asked in the street is ‘How did you manage to get onto Gogglebox, Scarlett?’ Actually that’s a lie, it’s: ‘How do I get onto Gogglebox? Me and my family would be great on there.’ The truth is I genuinely do not know, I’m sorry. I wish I had an email address I could just dish out to people. Me and my family didn’t fill in application forms or go to lots of tedious auditions. In all honesty it was a favour gone wrong (or right, now that I look back).

My friend who I went to college with, Tommy Turnbull – great name, great bloke – was the one who made it all happen. He worked as a researcher for the TV production company Studio Lambert. One Thursday afternoon he called me up. I was sat on the couch in the living room watching Time Team with my dad (and moaning about how much I dislike Time Team).

‘Scarlett, it’s Tommy. I bet you know a lot of interesting people. Do you think you have any mates or relatives that are interesting enough to want to audition for a Channel 4 show? It would only take half an hour at most. Basically it’s a show where people watch people watch TV,’ Tommy explained down the phone.

‘Pretty sure that’s voyeurism, Tommy. I don’t know, mate, they make programmes about anything these days. When would they need to be free?’ I replied.

There was a long pause followed by, ‘Anytime tomorrow. I know it’s short notice but you would be really helping me out if you found someone.’

I called up all my contacts on my mobile straight away; I only have about thirty contacts so it didn’t take long. I mean twelve of them are immediate family, six are takeaways, three are hair salons and four of the names I don’t even recognise. No one was up for doing the audition. I was gutted; I really wanted to help Tommy out. ‘Oh well, fuck it,’ I said to myself. ‘If you want something doing properly do it yourself.’

‘Hello, Tommy, it’s Scarlett. I have bad news and good news. The bad news is I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to take part, the good news is me and my family are up for doing it – well, I’m pretty sure they’ll be fine about it, I haven’t actually asked them yet. But give us a time and we will be ready, as long as it only does take half an hour.’ Tommy was thrilled he had managed to get an audition in the North East. ‘Mind, Tommy, we’re not wanting to actually do the show for real. Remember, this is just a favour.’

Now I knew my mam had already watched the first two series of Gogglebox; this was back when they were on Channel 4 on a Wednesday night. So I gave her a call at work.

‘Hello Burton’s Bishop Auckland, Elisabeth speaking, how can I help you?’ I knew if I called my mam at work she would be more likely to say yes in front of people.

‘Right, Mam, tomorrow come home during your dinner hour – try and be back for half twelve because me, you and Dad are going to help my mate Tommy out by pretending to do an audition for Gogglebox.’ I quickly hung up in order not to hear her response in case it was a no.

The next day a little crew of four people came to the house with a camera. We all sat on our couch, in our own little spots (everyone has their certain seat in the house).

‘Right,’ explained Tommy. ‘We are going to show you some picture cards of celebrities and all you have to do is chat about them.’

First they showed us a picture of Piers Morgan, who I mistook for David Cameron. This resulted in us having a family argument about the bedroom tax, completely forgetting there were four other people in the room. Other pictures included Victoria Wood and Dawn French; we were told to stop chatting about them as we just couldn’t shut up once we started recalling all our good memories of ‘The Ballad of Barry and Freda’ and The Vicar of Dibley.

Now before I explain the next picture card I feel like I have to defend myself. Although I have a good memory and will never ever forget a face, I will forget where I met you, how, in what circumstance and your name. So they show me the next picture card and I can’t quite put my finger on who it is. Have I seen this man in a documentary? No, I think, he’s from an advert!

‘Oh, I love him!’ I piped up cheerfully. ‘I love savoury rice and this man was a life-saver at university. One microwave, one sachet and you had a meal in just two minutes!’ My dad looked