Friday, May 03, 2013

With a little help from my friends

Well it's been a funny ould day to say the least. It started at half-past nine this morning when I had to see my "key-worker" - which is their euphemism for the "in-house" probation officer. Well, there wasn't much to be said by either of us, to be quite frank. (Ha! Ha! That's a cracker. I'll have to remember that one - to be quite Frank. I just come out with them you know. Where was I? I've been wandering again. Oh yes - the meeting with the key-worker here at Bleak House.)

So...not much to be said by either side really. Let's face it, I don't want to be here and the sooner I can leave, the better. They don't want me here (I shouldn't wonder) because quite frankly I don't fit in really. I am not the usual sort of punter they get here and, compared to the rest, I am a bit of a misfit I suppose. Well, I don't take drugs, nor do I drink or argue and whinge about my medication or somebody drinking more milk than me.

So, we had our little chat and as far as I could see the only thing to come out of it was that I owed over a hundred quid in rent and could I cough up before they sent the bailiffs around. So I did. I went down town and got the cash from the hole in the wall gang and brought it back and paid up like a good boy.

So, that was my first meeting of the day over and I left it a poorer but very little wiser man. The story of my life really. However, when I was down town I did have the foresight to purchase myself a cheese'n'onion pie for my lunch at the princely sum of two quid - money well spent if you were to ask me. Went down a treat that did, once I had microwaved it.

After that I set off for a walk to assist the digestive processes and wandered down to the probation offices in a street which must remain secret in case the Russians or somebody finds out where it is. However, anyone who wants to know can go to and it's all there. (See! This computer business is distorting my mind. I may need counselling by the time I am finished.) Well, I met the Prob-Off mentioned earlier - the "out-house" one as opposed to the "in-house" one who took my dosh. I can't remember the conversation verbatim, only policemen can do that, but ,to paraphrase, it went along the lines of:

"Where do you want to live?" 
"Sunderland," said I. "It's far enough from my old haunts and friends really." 
"Jolly good," said she, clearly another one who would like to get rid of me. "Let's have the details of where you will be residing and all that kind of thing."

Gave her them - address, postcode, colour of door and where to find it on Google Maps, who the place belonged to - all that sort of thing. Apparently she will check with Officer Plod and the Sunderland probation service as to background or something. Provided nothing goes wrong I could well be transferred up to the North East in a relatively short period of time. I am off up there next Friday anyway for another weekend - staying with my brother again so that's okay. I shall come back to this nameless city and Bleak House on the following Monday, clutching in my little hot mitt a selection of photographs of the interior of the cottage I intend to live in until I find a place of my own that I like. Well, they need to see it to assure themselves that I am moving to an acceptable dwelling and not to some garret where I will be living on bread and cheese. Any more rent bills like today's and I won't be able to AFFORD bread and cheese - I'll only get that on my birthdays, and only then if somebody gives it to me.

I can't speak for anybody else here, but what I need is a holiday. I don't mean a few days in the bosom of my family, as pleasant as that may be.... No, I mean a decent break away somewhere exotic, like Scarborough. Speaking of Scarborough, a friend is travelling down with his family shortly for a few days in Skegness, so I expect he will show up to take me out for some of that bread and cheese mentioned earlier. Can't use his name - he has a wife and twelve pigeons to think about.

So, here I am, sitting in my singular abode, battering the keyboard mercilessly. In fact, looking at it, I'm not - I have finished. Watch this space, I may be moving on pretty soon - with a little help from my friends.

The Voice In The Wilderness

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