I was in a shop recently And a voice said, "Phil!" I turned to see a stranger smiling at me I said, "That's me, mate but You've got the better of me. The face is familiar," I lied He said his name was **** Which limited it to the hundreds Of Micks that I've met
Then he mentioned his surname And the dusty rusty cogs of memory Started to slowly grind into life By the time I was leaving the shop I knew exactly who he was From when we met About fifty years earlier
We both started our working careers At the same textile mill About four or five of us kids Were the butts of all jokes and tricks Mostly we would pull our faces a bit Swear a helluva lot And laugh it off with everyone else A lot of how we would be treated Would depend on our reactions to this It was normal Traditional even Never too malicious and no-one got hurt He brought his ****** mother down! I think he left not long after
A couple of years or so later We happened to use the same pub He had his friends and I had mine And we didn't mix, might say "Hi" at the bar Then.... He got the landlord's thirteen year old daughter pregnant Then dumped her and said that He wanted nothing to do with the child He was at least eighteen then
Now, whether through arrogance or stupidity Or, more likely, cruelty He carried on using the pub! Unsurprisingly He was beaten up outside It wasn't serious No hospitalization or broken bones Just a softener Then I was asked to be a go-between Because I "knew" **** and they trusted me
So I went to his home and spoke to his family A meeting was arranged I believe And I don't recall any more So yeah I remember you Ya little ****
By Phil Roberts
I sometimes forget how long my life has been.....and eventful.