In the old British 70s sitcom, Open All Hours, the late comic genius, Ronnie Barker, uttered a line that has stuck with me through the years. He played Arkwright, a stammering, miserly, manipulative, middle-aged grocer, who would rather risk amputation than put his hand in his own till for anyone.
Across the road from Arkwright’s store lived the buxom Nurse Gladys Emmanuel. When not trying to fleece his neighbourhood customers, Arkwright was forever trying to secure Nurse Emmanuel’s affections with the same gluttonous avarice. Irresistible in her plump, starched nurse’s uniform, much of the skinflint's time was spent trying to gain a glimpse of her ample bosom, begging her to ma-ma-marry, or at least sleep with him.
Calling up to her window one day, he stutters, “I dreamt about you last night Nurse Emmanuel, but it’s not the same as d-d-doing it, is it?”
