Man Boobs

A funny thing happened on Saturday.

I was taking part in a sponsored bike ride, sharing a tandem as I was with The Mayor of Aylesbury, the excellent Cllr Graham Webster. We pootled here and we pootled there. Indeed, my little Curate Bum thinks I pootled everywhere, but in the end we clocked up around 25 of yer English miles. 

Well, the thing is this. We arrived at a little country church and dismounted our tendem of torture, and just as we did so, a bride and groom emerged from their wedding ceremony, freshly spliced and glowing in the floaty light of their love, and all that. 

As part of the requirements for this sponsored ride, I had to jot my name on a list in each church, thus proving my progress around Buckinghamshire. I was be-collared for the event too - in anticipation of the Mayor pitching up as a tart - which he reneged on, the lightweight. 

Anyway, as I wandered down the path, amid the throng of well-wishers from said Nuptials, someone stopped me.

"That was a wonderful service Vicar; thank you so much, I really enjoyed it. You did a lovely service"

It happens, so I let it pass. The old fella must have been sat at the back, unable to see the vicar who had clearly made such an impression. Anyway, I meandered into the lovely little church where the folks were clearing away after the most lavish wedding ever seen ever, and then I spied the vicar in question who had made such a lasting impression on that one punter that he felt called to thank me for what he thought I had done. An eminent priest indeed, much admired by us newer clergy, a much loved pastor and leader...

...called Tina.