Sunday 5 November 1989

Another short diary piece here.  However, the story behind it is long and let’s not be coy, quite negative.  You might even say bitchy.

So, the entry,

Bollocks to you! Everton lost 6-2 vs Villa.

And now for the story behind it… well, in our house of six souls, we were grouped thus:

Three of us, including me, were Civil Engineers – see boring (an old Yellow Pages joke…).  The other three were Lawyers.  I got on perfectly well with everybody most of the time.

However, one individual, I need add no other detail than that, had the ability to wind me up something rotten.  To this day, I’m not sure that he did it on purpose or even if he knew that he was doing it.

Here are three, maybe four or five, reasons why he wound me up so much…

a) cheese.  I like cheese. Most people, unless they are lactose intolerant do too.  So did this lad.  Trouble as, he liked it a very lot.  He would eat cheese on toast for breakfast, dinner and tea if he could.  Of that I am sure.  The thing was, his cheese slicing skills were rudimentary at best.  So of course, his slices were more like wedges, or to be even more accurate, f***ing dirty great chunks of the stuff.  I think that you can guess the rest…

b) being pampered by his grandmother.  Ok, ok, there is envy at play here I am happy to admit.  But, try this.  We were all young lads of a certain age, living away from home.  Doing our own washing, probably for the first time.  Did we have a washing machine in our house.  Of course not, we had the launderette just across the road.  A two minute walk. Now, this lad’s grandmother lived reasonably locally so she would pop in for his laundry.  All fine, not a problem.  Until I found out that she was taking it to the launderette to do it for him.  Get that… She. Was. Taking. It. To. The. Launderette.

c) shared bills.  Much like the way that we shared our food shopping, we also shared our bills – gas, electricity and phone.  Now the phone was simple enough, we had no scope for any sort of argument there – it was incoming calls only, so no issue.  However, the use of gas and electricity was a different matter.  One incident comes to mind.  It was winter, I guess, so he had his gas fire on.  No problem there, that’s what happens in winter.  However, when I walked past his open door I noticed that his window was also wide open (fire blazing).  “How come you’ve got your fire on and the window and door open”, say I.

“It’s too hot in here”, responds he.

“Well, why don’t you turn your fr***in’ fire off then, eh?” was my reasoned reply.

d) football.  Lad was an Everton fan; I was a Liverpool fan (still am).  Domestically, the two teams had been going neck and neck in the mid- to late-eighties.  He gloated over Liverpool’s 0-1 reversal to Coventry City from yesterday.  I let him have it back with both barrels following Aston Villa’s fine win over the blues.  All’s, fair in love war and football and to be brutal, he was particularly clueless…

So there you go.  Here’s me, coming up to twenty years old behaving like a right mardy mare.  I had a lot of growing up to do…

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