Ray Boorman



It was Thursday night and there was I, sat on the sofa bored to tears, the wife sat by the side of me all excited “Soap night” she said rubbing her hands together waiting for them to start, two hours of continual mind numbing drivel I thought, but you daren’t say anything.

“You’re fed up aren’t you?” she said. “Why don’t you give Colin a ring and go for a pint?”

Result I thought, you’ve never seen a man’s backside exit a chair so fast in your life, I was straight on the phone to my mate Colin.

“Hi Col it’s Ray, are you coming out to play for a couple of hours and get me out of the house away from the dreaded soaps?”

I know that Colin was as happy as I was to escape all the shouting, the endless arguments, people sleeping with other people’s wives, well it always seems that way in the soaps.

I don’t think the people who write them live in the real world, how can one street have so many murders? How can you get thrown out of your house one minute and find new accommodation the next and all before the next advert starts?
Anyway I digress, I walked to my local and bought a pint for myself and a pint for Colin, I knew he wouldn’t waste any time in showing up, and sure enough within couple of minutes in he strolled.

We took our drinks and went and sat at a table in the window, “I’m glad you rang” he said.

You see I know that Colin feels the same way about the soaps as I do.

Colins just had a new ornamental wall built with a new shingle driveway down to his garage at the side of the house, so I thought it only polite to ask him if he was pleased with it,

“Shingle drive, don’t talk to me about the shingle drive” he said “Wish I’d never had the bloody thing done.

“Why what’s the matter with it?” I said, well you have to ask don’t you.

He took a large swallow of his pint and carried on, “It was really late the other night when I got home from being round at Mick’s place and I’d had a few pints, I shouldn’t have driven home really but Mick’s house is only a stones throw away as you know, so I chanced it, anyway when I park the car on the new drive it wakes her up, so I thought I’d park it on the road, after I’d parked it up I stepped over the new ornamental wall and walked over the grass to avoid walking on the shingle drive, I very gently opened the front door and closed it quietly behind me, I slipped off my shoes and waddled up the stairs keeping my feet to the outside of them as close to the walls as I could so they wouldn't creak, I’d had a few beers and was bursting for a pee, so I carefully aimed around the inside of the bowl so as not to splash and I didn’t attempt to pull the chain, but before I’d even had chance to put little Percy back in the nest I heard her shout, “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN TILL NOW”

Poor Col, I told him, I said “You’re going about this the wrong way mate?”

Now as you know I’ve got a shingle drive, and when I get home late I do a handbrake turn on my shingle drive, I open the door and slam it shut, I thump up the stairs in my boots, I have a slash and aim for the water in the bottom of the bowl, then whilst pulling the chain I shout, “IT’S YOUR LUCKY NIGHT TONIGHT DARLING” and you can bet your life that when I open the door and go in, she’s fast asleep.



Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Ray Boorman.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 07.04.2011.


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