River Wissey Lovell Fuller


February 2006

Les lets us into his world of fantasy....

I found myself at some event or other the other night. I'm not sure if I wanted to go but eventually I threw caution to the wind and went. After all, I was convinced that most people there would be pleased to see me; it turned out such confidence was as it happened somewhat misplaced.

Mingling with all and sundry it soon became apparent that not all were delighted to see me. One or two gave me a glare which, translated, seem to indicate that I could get lost and the quicker the better. However, the middle of the road ones let it be known in a number of ways that they could put up with me if they made the effort; whether they wanted to or not wasn't all that clear.

What really made my night was when a lovely young lady, not only smiled somewhat benignly at me but also, gently touched my arm as she walked by.

I was so overcome that I immediately wanted to propose marriage but by the time I had got control of my emotions I realised I was already married and she the delightful one had disappeared out of sight. Not only that but it was then my turn to buy the drinks.

My protestations that I was a reformed Methodist and very much anti-alcohol cut little ice with those who were there masquerading as my friends, so out came the wallet only to discover somewhat fortuitously that one or two were on the wagon as they were driving. How delightful it was to find that there are some responsible people about, according to my calculations some £5-50 of them.

Later in the evening I found my luck was in when I came face to face with the charming one, the one that smiled at me. She told me, somewhat disingenuously, in fact she even spelt the word for me, that her name was Harriet. I responded by telling her my name was Les and with that for reasons which I couldn't understand she suddenly said, "I've got a horse called Les" and the next thing I knew she had again disappeared. Harriet, that is not the horse; you don't find horses at the event I was at, well not four legged ones anyway.

Shortly afterwards the band struck up and the next thing I knew the lovely one was dancing with a man old enough to be her Father, it later transpired it was indeed her father which didn't please me very much as I felt she could have danced with him when they got home.

Good fortune was not far away when suddenly the MC reminded us all that the dance was a General Excuse Me. With that I bounded across the floor and in no time at all I had swept the gorgeous one into my arms and we were dancing a pulsating quickstep, which proved to be rather unfortunate as the band was, at the time, playing a waltz. Yes I know, you have heard that one many times before but let's face it, if you have something which you think is a winner then flog it to death.

I was about to accept the lovely one's invitation to go outside for some fresh air when suddenly there was an almighty crash. It transpired that I had hit my head on the bed post, and it was time to get up and start pruning the petunias.

I'm planning to have an early night, tonight. With a bit of luck I might catch up with where I left off, who knows she might want me to feed the horse.

Les Lawrence

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