Look here, Claudia, you'd better get this through your big hair: Lewis Archer has officially hung up his smoking jacket and put away his um..'protection' (raincoat and brolly? -ed). Or, to put it another way, Lewis has retired his Rolodex, thrown away his Cougar catalogue and emptied out his bottles of Old Spice. That's right, Claudia, as of now Lewis Archer is officially a one-woman man.
No Claudia, he hasn't signed an exclusive contract with a mature, rich widow of independent means (good idea, though - ed). No, Lewis has decided to channel all of his escort energies to one special lady (Deirdre Barlow? - ed). Or, as you so succinctly put it: "Audrey Roberts has snared you."
Oh, yes, Claud, it's true that the over-sixties female population is officially in mourning. Not since Matlock was taken off the air have so many female tears been shed for a mature man.
But, hang on a minute, what if Lewis was offered an obscene amount of money for one last fling, one last sensual fandango at Claudia's illicit house of pleasure? (two doors down from the viaduct, can't miss it -ed)
That's right, what if Claudia offered one million pounds for one night with Lewis?
Well, of course, it wouldn't be exactly one million pounds. More like 25 quid an hour plus expenses and taxi fare home, but an indecent proposal none the less. And I have a feeling that Lewis has a soft spot -- not just for the ladies -- but for the money as well. By the way, Claudia, how's Spritzer?
Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I was struck down by flu last week and didn't do the TGIF. My apologies and rest assured that neither skiving or illness will prevent me from TGIFing this week.