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Wednesday, 27 December 2017

An Early Christmas Present


This month's Derby Telegraph article strays into the territory of romance!  If it ever appears on the Derby Telegraph website (which I doubt) I'll post the link here but, until then, here's a scan of the article with the unedited text below:


This is the time of year which hotels and the like, have rather tweely christened 'Twixmas', in an effort to give an identity to that awkward period between the business-end of Christmas proper and the yet-to-begin mania of New Year. 

It's as good a time as any to take stock of presents received and desperately try to remember who gave them to you.  It was in this frame of mind that I thought back to one Christmas at Wesley's, in Burton upon Trent in the early 1970s, that was rather different from the others.

I think I've mentioned before that I used to suffer from a crippling shyness, which was rather at odds with surging teenage hormones and a factory full of girls.  I happened to mention my dilemma to my mate, Colin, the Serviette Department Manager, who was my absolute opposite in that he had self-confidence in the same way that Blackpool has frontage. 

I went on to point out one particular girl in his department with whom I had chatted in passing and who was rather attractive.  Shortly afterwards he said he had fixed me up with a date and we were to meet at the Wetmore Bus Station.  That early winter night, I stood in the Bus Station, muffled in an old car coat of my Dad's (which I thought looked rather sophisticated… I was wrong) and watched bus after bus come and go, as did our appointed hour.  After about two hours, I realised that this was going nowhere and headed to my local, rather dejectedly and to the surprise of all of those who were expecting me to be out on a romantic interlude.

The following day, in some dudgeon, I collared Colin.  He was full of apologies and went to find out what had happened.  It turned out that she thought Colin was joking (he had a well-deserved reputation as a kidder) hence the non-appearance.  I went to have a chat with her and she was sorry but it clearly wasn't going to happen.  Consequently my self-confidence descended to a new low. 



Colin

However, shortly after this a rather attractive girl started working right outside my office, on a dilapidated piece of equipment which assembled the cardboard packing for toilet flats (flat sheets of toilet paper, as opposed to rolls).  Not an evidently romantic setting but you have to work with what is there. Colin had clearly put a good word in about me and, after a few bits of light-hearted banter as I came and went from the office (which was necessary a surprising amount of times), I finally screwed up the courage to ask her out, and she said yes!

We met at the Midland Hotel, a pub on Guild Street/New Street corner which I fondly imagined was somewhere posh (wrong again!).  She looked amazing and we got on like a house on fire.  After a couple of drinks, she asked if the Midland was my usual haunt, which I had to admit it wasn't.  The problem was that my regular haunt, at that time, was The Alma Inn in Cross Street which was a back street pub to end all back street pubs.  Nevertheless, she suggested we should pop in and visit, so we did.

Den (from my boozy Majorcan holiday, if you remember) was looking after the pub for his dad, who had been taken ill, and he and Kev (also from that holiday) were propping up the bar.   I must admit that the image I will always regard as my favourite Christmas Present of 1974 were the looks on the faces of the regulars, and my mates, when I wandered in with this stunning girl on my arm.  Life doesn't get much better than moments like that!

Of course, the actual Christmas present from my new girlfriend, some weeks later, was not quite the same success, consisting as it did of a figure-hugging woollen top (and I've never had a figure worth hugging) which looked like a knitted migraine.  Oh well!

Thanks very much for reading my articles in 2017.  I hope you had a pleasant Christmas and I wish you the very best for 2018.


Philip's latest collection of stories "The Things You See…" is still available at the special introductory price of just £1.49, for a few more days, at http://mybook.to/ThingsYouSee

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