A very boring hunt in the freezer section of Cwmbran Asda yesterday for chicken kievs (furthest freezer aisle, far wall, middle-ish, bottom shelf) was made a lot more interesting after bumping into a Cwmbran Life reader.
A random act of kindness from Jeanette has persuaded me to start writing a blockbuster novel that’s been going around in my head for ages. Only joking, I’m a journalist and (try to) deal in facts. So many unusual, funny, sad, stressful, quirky and weird things happen in the background of running Cwmbran Life that I’ve decided to keep a daily diary.
After 365 days of entries, I will knock it into shape and publish an e-book to sell for a few quid a ‘copy’, retire off the royalties, leave NP44 and start Benidorm Life. As if.
And the entry for Sunday 23 February 2025? Ok, here it is. An exclusive and free first extract:
“Had the loveliest thing happen to me today. I had been up and down the freezer sections in Cwmbran Asda twice to find some chicken kievs. I was walking inch by inch (that’s the first and last Adrian Mole reference ticked off) and checking off every item in each freezer section and a woman holding a basket said to me how much she enjoys Cwmbran Life.
“I don’t need much to stop and chat when someone says something like that. I found out that two of her children were in the same school as me, and she said people appreciated Cwmbran Life and its stories.
“I’m never going to leave Asda with compliments like this or get my head through those sliding doors on the way out. Tea is going to be late today.
“I opened up a bit about how I love Cwmbran Life, hate Cwmbran Life and all the emotions in between but said that meeting people in person and hearing their stories is the best thing ever.”
And then I told her a secret. A proper secret. Something a bit crazy that may happen with Cwmbran Life next month and the only people in the world who know are my wife and daughter -and now Jeanette.
A few compliments and I’m spilling the beans about something to a woman I’ve just met in Asda! Stay as a journalist Ben, and never become a spy.
Jeanette told me she’d tried to ‘Buy Me A Coffee’ but struggled to do it online but wanted to buy me a coffee. She then did something that was one for the ‘random’ stories file.
Next thing I know she’s grabbed a fiver from her handbag and told me to go and get myself a coffee. I refused and said no, but my head was telling me: “Ben, if you say ‘yes’ this will be one of those stories that you need to record in this diary that you ‘ve been on about writing.”
At 4.10pm I found myself in Coffee #1 drinking a large cappuccino and writing the first entry for the next 365 days. What will tomorrow bring?
Ben Black, aged 48 ¼
Thanks Jeanette. And remember the thing I told you is top secret!
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