Navigating your way around April Fool’s Day and its pranks isn’t always so easy, as Liz Frost finds out. Every time..!
On the bus on my way into town to meet my friends for lunch on Sunday morning, I was amazed to read a story in the newspaper about a kitten that had grown to the size of a cow. Truly amazed. I sat staring goggle-eyed at the picture of the huge kitty, which was without a doubt larger than any cattle I’d ever seen in my life, then my eye wandered to the date at the top of the page. April 1st. I groaned inwardly. I’m rubbish at practical jokes myself, yet every year I seem to get caught out. Like the year my boss sent me on a wild goose chase around all the Dixons in London looking for a ‘p-pod’ for his niece, or the year I got tricked into going to a party dressed as a spring lamb (they told me it was fancy dress!), or the year my brother told me that Polo mints could actually give you Polio, before confiscating them all for ‘safe keeping’ – okay I was only six at the time, but I didn’t feel any less stupid. I could go on…
What’s more, just as I was thinking this, a strange man sitting behind me reached over and pinched me. Yes, that’s right, he actually pinched me. Right there on my upper arm. The cheek of it. I glared at him and moved down the bus. I was determined this year would be different. Come hell or high water, nobody would get away with playing a prank on me.
With trepidation, I hopped off at Oxford Circus and made my way to Carluccios, where my friends were already supping innocently on their white wine. Innocent, my eye, I thought, carefully checking my seat for whoopee cushions.
That’s the thing about April fools day, you can never relax. Any little tinker could be skulking around the next corner planning to fill your umbrella with pencil shavings or slip a toad in the hood of your coat. With this in mind, I eyed the waiter suspiciously as I ordered a glass of white wine. He looked shifty. I’d keep my eye on him I decided…
The girls were talking about Rachel’s date the night before so I slipped off my coat and joined in. Just as I was settling comfortably in my seat, it happened again. A complete stranger walked past and pinched me on the arm! Not a little pinch either, a proper crab-like pinch – there was no mistaking it this time. “Oi!” I said to the retreating lady. But it was too late, she’d already disappeared into the bathroom. We all looked at each other baffled.
Four glasses of wine and a mushroom ravioli later, I hopped into a cab. It was 3 o’clock. I’d almost made it through the entire day without having one single practical joke played on me. I was really quite pleased with myself. I merrily thanked the cabbie as he dropped me off. Then as I retreated he yelled “Hey!” and called me back. He turned me round and pulled an A4 sheet of paper off my back.
“Pinch me,” it said.
Liz Frost is a freelance writer specialising in features for women's magazines. She writes for Company, Cosmopolitan, Glamour, Zest, B, Bliss, She, Female First and NW. Email her at liz_frost@yahoo.co.uk, even if it's just to say hello!
