Orgasmic

I love Wimbledon. My favourite two weeks TV of the year. Never been though, so this year decided to visit on the Monday of week 2. We thought we'd just turn up and see if we could get one of those £17 tickets which let you go everywhere apart from the show courts. We arrived at approximately 11:30 and there was no obvious queue to join. It was a bit hot, so we weren't well pleased when, having walked to the far end of the site we were told we'd have to walk most of the way back again, and then cross over the road, or perhaps not, depending on whom you asked, to pass through security. Having walked backwards and forwards a few times, and having been given no help or useless help from the scores of stewards and other officials hanging about, we finally found someone who knew what they were talking about and we were able to achieve entrance. When we moaned about the absence of signs the stewards just looked at us in amazement - how dare the great unwashed complain about the arrangements at Wimbledon. Most seemed to have their heads so far up their arses ...
The number of staff must far outnumber the ordinary punters. They had so many flunkies hanging around they could afford to put two Securicor gents on a staircase four or so metres wide to force a minute number of pedestrians to "keep to the right, please". Don't they know that Brits tend to keep to the left? They didn't half get ratty when folk ignored them. If it had been in America they'd probably have pulled guns.
We occasionally found somewhere to sit in the shade where we could see the play, but usually there were too many punters with exactly the same idea. And even in the shade it was a bit too warm. We moved about quite a bit to see what was going on, and to try to keep out of the sun. I tell you one thing - most of the courts are a lot smaller than the ones they show you on the TV. No that it seemed to affect the players. Anyway, we saw Ancic (losing a second set) and Sugiyama (getting knocked out) and Li putting up a good show against an east European who screamed something which sounded very much like "shitski" when she lost a point. We saw a whole load of really entertaining doubles matches. We also saw the scoreboard informing everyone Murray was being knocked out.
We didn't see Sharapova but we heard her grunting from a couple of courts away. Most blokes seem to go weak at the knees at the mention of her name. OK, she's moderately attractive, but would you really want to go out with her? There you'd be in this posh restaurant and as she lifted her pint she grunt "Ahhhrrreeaaahhhhh!" When she was cutting her steak, or slicing a radish, she'd scream Heeerrrrreeeeaaarrrrhhhh!" So embarrassing. And assuming you could bear it long enough to get her into bed, can you imagine the racket? It would bring down the plaster. And the joists and roof slates. And the trees in the garden next door. Thank you, but no thank you.