Having not slept all night due to the Solstice at the Henge, I was faced with two possibilities. Have a cup of tea and crash out like a sensible chap and then awake at some future hour and have to go out and do a lone BIG Xmas shop, or …. Man up and get it all over with in my somewhat disheveled state before succumbing to Morpheus.

I foolishly chos…e the latter option …. and sure enough, half way to town I spy in the distance, three dodgy looking characters lurking in an old doorway. Upon drawing closer to this unholy trinity, I was horrified to see that one of them was none other than the wizened Harpie who had maniacally cackled at me in the street just a few days before. And this time, with her, was another similarly disposed woman and a rather rough looking bald bloke.

Expecting the worst I tried to slip by them without incident … but no !
Just as I thought I’d got away with it, the other woman shouted out … but to my surprise, all she said was “Have a great Xmas”.
I turned, somewhat relieved and thanked her and wished her the same, then turned away, quite happy with the way things played out.

But oh no ….. You’re Mark Vine and you don’t get away with nothing!

Just two steps on, the man in a loud, raucous London accent shouted out … “Oi mate … has anyone ever told you you look like fuckin’ Billy Connolly” ?

Now I was expecting Alice Cooper, I was expecting Frank Zappa …. I was even prepared for Ronnie Wood, or even, due to my unkempt, tired appearance, the dreaded Keith Richards ! …. But Billy Connolly !

I turned and faced him

“Thanks a fucking bunch” I moaned ….. With that, the two women started screaming at the tops of their voices in my defence against my verbal assailant.
“Leave him alone. He’s much better looking than bleedin’ Billy Connolly. You’ve hurt his feelings now” !

I stood there in silence. I wanted to say something witty in reply, but was so tired, that I decided on a wry smile instead.

So …. the die is cast ……….. From this day forwards, I never again expect to set foot out of my own front door, without being, in some way, shouted at, ridiculed and unfavourably likened to … ever again.

Mark Cider Vine

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