Black Books
The probably-final-ever series of Black Books has just ended, and I am in mourning. Along with Spaced, itâs one of the best and most imaginative UK sitcoms in many long, dreary and âKeeping up Appearancesâ-filled years.
For those of you who havenât had the pleasure, Bernard Black owns a bookshop, but barely tolerates the customers. Heâs more of a misomni-ist than a misanthropist; apart from red wine and cigarettes, he loathes and detests everyone and everything. Manny is a sweet, cheerful, good-natured beardy hippie, who Bernard uses as a general dogsbody. Fran is an alcoholic who has nothing better to do, and so spends her time in the shop.
Last night, Manny and Fran tried to persuade Bernard to go to a party, only succeeding when they deceived him into thinking that the booze had run out:
[Manny, excited to be going to the party]: Letâs paaaarâ¦.
[Bernard, furiously pointing at Manny]: Donât you dare use âpartyâ as a verb in this shop!
Later, after the party, Bernard muses on the eveningâs entertainment:
The drinks were few. The people were many. It was all I expected and less.
Iâm really going to miss it, but Iâm going to fill the void by reading these hilarious book reviewsââMastering Regular Expressions in Perlâ is priceless.
