In a new feature, somewhere between "At Home With..." and "Through the Keyhole", Malc and I will be going home with a different CUKer each week
to see what they get up to when they're not bashing away at the keyboard and it'll be up to you to guess the identity of the mystery CUKer
from our observations.
Our first destination was a rather salubrious area of the capital and you can imagine our disappointment, after having driven through leafy suburbs, the sat nav indicated that our journey's end was a rather dreary little cul-de-sac where we pulled up outside a Barratt Homes type construction shoehorned into what looked like had been the neighbouring house's vegetable patch. I couldn't help thinking that within lived a man to whom status was important as the only thing he was getting for his money here was the postcode.
The twitching of net curtains announced that our arrival had been noticed and our host greeted us at the door. We removed our shoes at his request and made our way into the lounge where a huge fantasy world mural depicting an extra terrestrial beach on which stood a nude couple hand in hand gazing into space adorned the wall.
A quick glance at the bookcase revealed a number of titles which may give some clues to our mystery CUKer; plenty of dummies guides and copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People being particularly pertinent I thought.
A man who likes his music judging from the towering stack system stood in the corner of the room. The disc on the turntable, I noticed, was Sad Sweet Dreamer by Sweet Sensation. Noticing the absence of a television, I was just about to open my mouth when, as if reading my thoughts, our host whipped open the doors of what I had taken as an antique rosewood dresser to reveal a 40 inch plasma screen. He stood beaming at us - "My pride and joy" he said before offering us some coffee which Malc and I gladly accepted as he passed the steaming mugs through the serving hatch.
"I'm on an economy drive and some things have to give" he explained apologetically as he registered the look on Malc and I's faces on tasting our first mouthful of the cheap Camp coffee within - "I'm in hock up to my eyeballs", he wailed, gesturing towards the gleaming sports coupe parked outside.
That Camp coffee doesn't half go through you fast and, after quick visit to the lavatory where I noticed our host had installed a Dyson Airblade, we bade our farewells before heading off to Luton for our next character assassination - details of which to be published here next week!
So, over to you. Who was our mystery CUKer through the Keyhole?
to see what they get up to when they're not bashing away at the keyboard and it'll be up to you to guess the identity of the mystery CUKer
from our observations.
Our first destination was a rather salubrious area of the capital and you can imagine our disappointment, after having driven through leafy suburbs, the sat nav indicated that our journey's end was a rather dreary little cul-de-sac where we pulled up outside a Barratt Homes type construction shoehorned into what looked like had been the neighbouring house's vegetable patch. I couldn't help thinking that within lived a man to whom status was important as the only thing he was getting for his money here was the postcode.
The twitching of net curtains announced that our arrival had been noticed and our host greeted us at the door. We removed our shoes at his request and made our way into the lounge where a huge fantasy world mural depicting an extra terrestrial beach on which stood a nude couple hand in hand gazing into space adorned the wall.
A quick glance at the bookcase revealed a number of titles which may give some clues to our mystery CUKer; plenty of dummies guides and copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People being particularly pertinent I thought.
A man who likes his music judging from the towering stack system stood in the corner of the room. The disc on the turntable, I noticed, was Sad Sweet Dreamer by Sweet Sensation. Noticing the absence of a television, I was just about to open my mouth when, as if reading my thoughts, our host whipped open the doors of what I had taken as an antique rosewood dresser to reveal a 40 inch plasma screen. He stood beaming at us - "My pride and joy" he said before offering us some coffee which Malc and I gladly accepted as he passed the steaming mugs through the serving hatch.
"I'm on an economy drive and some things have to give" he explained apologetically as he registered the look on Malc and I's faces on tasting our first mouthful of the cheap Camp coffee within - "I'm in hock up to my eyeballs", he wailed, gesturing towards the gleaming sports coupe parked outside.
That Camp coffee doesn't half go through you fast and, after quick visit to the lavatory where I noticed our host had installed a Dyson Airblade, we bade our farewells before heading off to Luton for our next character assassination - details of which to be published here next week!
So, over to you. Who was our mystery CUKer through the Keyhole?
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