Another day, another painful nip and tuck to the manuscript of Turkey Street. ‘Nice story,’ Liam had said at the time. ‘Cut it.’ Naturally, I complied, unable to bear another hangdog look from my taskmaster. So, ladies and gents, I give you the barber’s tale, ripped from the heart of Turkey Street before it went off to the publishers – Sweeney Todd minus the music, the murder and the meat pies.
Perking the Pansies 
. . hard to know where the imagination leaves off and the imagination begins! I think Liam was out to bury this tale (or is it tail?) of inuendo before it goes viral.
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I never thought of it like that. You may have have a point. It was an extraordinary experience.
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I remember my first Istanbul massage, Jack. Felt more like a dismemberment! As arms and legs were pulled into ungainly (and very revealing) positions, I thought I would be paraplegic for the rest of my days. After a 30 minutes doze (more like a ma) I was the most relaxed I’ve ever been. Wish I could find that service here. UK masseurs are a bit too gentle – and genteel.
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I felt the same after my first massage following my first genuine hamam experience. Our barber’s tale, though, had a slightly different outcome 😉
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Will you be going back?
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Once is more than enough! 😀
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