It was about 5 years ago now and my mother, brother and I had decided to take a trip in to Central Oxford.
I will explain that my brother is one of a kind. And I mean that in every sense of the phrase. I have often tried to write a character based on him for many a production but have found it unbelievably difficult to capture his essence on paper.
On this particular occasion, we had bumped into an old family friend and after listening to the usual spiel about how my brother and I have “grown up so much”, we got bored and wandered off whilst my mother chatted away.
We grabbed a coffee and then I leant against the wall as my brother went on a gazillion year tangent about how “Rush Hour was the best film out of the whole trilogy” yada yada.
Mid conversation he turned and decided to karate kick a “statue” directly in the arse.
Now this type of behaviour is not out of the ordinary in my family. My brother frequently moon walks into the lounge or will karate kick the door in order to enter a room when he comes to visit. Simply because he and his friends think that he is a comedy genius.
Well not this time my friend, not this time.
He got the shock of his life when he realised that the “statue” was a real human being. (I know. Imagine being there.)
To which the gentleman turned around with a look on his face that can only be described as “WTF?”
My brother proceeded to look at me with a smile on his face, then look at the gentleman and reply “I’m sorry I thought you were a statue”.
I’M SORRY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A STATUE. I don’t think I will ever recover.