11
MEETING OLLIE
My first lecture was on chimek, and how to review it on camera. At
the time it seemed like an odd thing to learn, but the tutor assured us
that it would come in useful one day, so I went along with it. As I
looked at the delicious chicken, something seemed to resonate deep
in my soul. It called to me somehow, like a hand from the future was
reaching back into the present (which to the future was the past) and
waving hello to my heartstrings.
On my first evening on campus I met another new student, who
would change my life forever. Dustin and I were in the Great Hall,
admiring the night sky through the invisible ceiling, and chatting to
Mostly Decapitated Nigel, one of the ghosts. We were attending one
of the banquets for new students, and just as the ninth course (swan
flambe with asparagus jus) was being cleared away and the sifting hat
was being removed for copyright reasons, a quiet descended. I looked
around, and saw a student I hadn’t seen before dressed in nothing but
a cravat and pages from Dickens, stapled loosley to his torso.
Apparently he had misunderstood the meaning of white tie and tales. I
had no idea who he was, but could this really be the Ollie Kendal? I’d
never heard the name before, but I knew I was in the presence of
greatness. Just being near him was like watching the moon rise over
the Taj Mahal while Beethoven played Shakespeare’s sonnets and
Elvis served drinks. I had never experienced love at first sight, but I
knew this was no ordinary handsome, charismatic, debonair, urbane
and devilishly talented man.
Words can’t describe how I felt at that moment, but all at once I
knew how Stanley felt when he found Livingstone; how Hannibal felt
when he crested the Alps and saw Carthage; how Maureen felt when
she first saw Daryl.
I was really hungry, but I didn’t even notice. This was bigger than
vol au vents; bigger than mini sausage roll; bigger even than Carrott