a photo by Speed-Light on Flickr.
Sitting enjoying this beautiful spring sunshine, I was complaining to my Dad that I wasn’t sure what to put on my blog tonight.
“This sunshine is melting my brain…” I complained. “I’m finding it hard to be creative..”
“I’ll give you a funny story” my father muttered, blinking into the bright light. “In fact I can think of many from when I was a lad…”
Trying to imagine my Dad young is never an easy thing. Rather like the perennial pensioner Jimmy Saville, my father has always managed to look old and worn out. Like an old sock.
And because my dearest Pater has always had a fondness for the dreaded drink, rather like an old sock, he soaks it up like a sponge.
“I was at a party…” He began, sucking on his fag end in earnest. “And let’s just say I ended up a little worse for wear. In fact, I ended up collapsed in a room, on a bed, between some bloke’s legs…”
He caught my shocked look and added quickly “don’t be daft, we were fully clothed. It wasn’t one of them parties…”
“Of course not Dad.”
“Anyway, I woke up in the middle of the night a little parched – as you do.”
He paused, for effect. Sucking again on his withered cigarette, squinting into the sun.
“I staggered out of the room and as I made my way down the hallway, I saw the door to another room open. On the windowsill was a glass. The moon was beaming it’s rays through it and turning it the most delightful amber colour. I couldn’t resist.”
“You wanted more beer?”
“I did when I saw it. I wanted it really badly. So without a second glance I grabbed it and necked it down…”
I waited, watching as my Dad’s cool eyes flickered towards me.
“To this day I don’t why it took me so f*****g long to work out that I was drinking another mans p**s…”
He grinded his fag end into the ground and curled his lip.
“So I am quite literally a p**s taker!”
Yet again – words failed me. Words, just failed me.
