Thursday 2 July 2015

A Stranger In Paradise

There I was sitting there with this nice couple and their lovely kids looking a bit puzzled.  They had told me that a local group of Tories had been set up to invite the old and lonely into their homes following the advice of Jeremy Hunt.  Asking politely who he was they told me he was a member of the government, Health Secretary no less.

It was a nice cup of tea but I could have done with something a bit stronger, it was past noon and my usual at that time comes from the home brew still and filter in the spare bedroom.  Something I do not like to mention, especially since the last explosion.

They asked me where I came from so I told them Basingstoke.  It seems to satisfy most people.  If I tell the truth it makes them a little nervous, the Docks in question doesn't sound so good these days.  Especially if your dad was nicking everything he could lay his hands on.

It is awkward if they asked me what I used to work at.  This is a long story of many jobs with many bosses, none of which lasted very long.  As the football bosses put, differences in perception, usually following grievous bodily harm.  A complication is that the employment history has periods in between at Her Majesties Pleasure partly because of work habits derived from my father.

It is simpler to say that I was a council employee who now has a small pension.  The shop lifting racket that provides present funding is not one to advertise because of the nature of the goods targeted.  There is a select gang of pensioners who have got it down to a fine art and with a reliable sales outlet.

Then there is service in the Armed Forces.  My present tale is one of noble efforts for King and Country against the might of our enemies in a distant part of the Far East.  I like to say that I did not do much in a way that leaves people with impression of an unknown modest hero, especially when I show them the medals bought from a second hand shop.

The truth is that for a short spell I was put in the Royal Army Skiving, sorry Service, Corps as a lorry driver.  During this time a lot of lorries went missing and I took the fall.  After release I deserted and was fixed up with another name from the Registrar General's record.  As any amnesty does not cover my case, keeping mum is the policy.

The delicate issue is one of marriage.  Indeed I had a very happy married life.  This was because when the party and fun were over and a bun was in the oven I left and found another after sampling the choice.  Divorce being expensive and time consuming there are a number of wives still around which could be embarrassing and not easy to explain.

So I just look into the distance and softly say something about a tragic loss now just a memory of a saintly lady who worked to help the poor and sick.  That usually turns them on.  I always avoid silly jokes like still being in the freezer with her mother.

All good things come to an end and it was a pleasant afternoon and a happy memory.  Now I have enough cash to get a new and better still and filter and if anyone is looking for a good laptop, set of family passports and full house of credit cards, just get in touch.

For specialists there is also a near new top of the range BMW in a friend's garage for a knock down price.

With keys, now for some of the cake they gave me.

1 comment:

  1. Ha ha - very good. That could be worked up into a short story, but would future generations get it?