Coco Cola was another dream coming out as rare treats," it rots your stomach","all your teeth will fall out","if you put a nail in a jar fill it with cola...!!" the mind boggles.I always promised myself that if i should ever one day become a parent such utterance from myself would make me put my cock on a butchers table.
Small treats to day are different,they have lost their awe,their magic, give a child a can of coke,so what...put a ten pound note in a birthday card,oh well what can i spend it on,their seems no rush,to smell sniff, scrub, in the ball of hands,no glee in th cold touch of a can of coke,times change but is it progress...i do sometimes wonder.
How would i regard Harry Potter..a big or little treat,or is it simply a right,could i put Harry Potter along side a can of coke,a ten shilling note,if so there is still hope for awe...Saturday Morning past saw myself sat in my tiny red van brimming with brown wrapped Harry Potter Books.Three moments in time on that day stand out,perhaps not to be forgotten,perhaps dwelled on over a pint of foaming mirth,i can still remember one year when three kids rushed down the stairs almost ripping the front door of it's hinges,screaming,laughing giggling.Parents in the hall way beaming,it felt good to be alive.
One of the early dawn books delivered,caught a mature lady in her thin house coat,all a kimbo,trying to tie a knot in her robe, her heavy saggy breasts pushing out,shamefully i tried to stretch the moment,just stare at these wonderful saggies before me," it's for me" she said,as if her hands closing in on a ten shilling note, the gleam in her eyes could light ten thousand candles,we stood as if two kids in a toffee shop,not knowing which to gorge on first,her with a clutched Harry Potter,me with her saggies in mind.
MIdday saw my tiny red van hovering at traffic lights,across the lights strode a young lad a Harry Potter clutched under his arm,wrapped in a clear plastic bag,the clear plastic bag caught my mind,was his purpose to tell the world such,was he going to sit down and read it,he did not look the reading type,but why should i have thought such.Who would have thought that in my youth i would haunt a book shop, come out with soft porn, wrapped in brown bags, stuffed into safety a bag,perhaps strode myself across traffic lights as he did, and did anyone wonder then or is my mind that warped,to even compare the two moments in time.
Some one had to be last and at 4.30pm i knocked on my last door and the same gleam was there the ten thousand candles,the ten shilling note, and the parting words " it is worth the wait "..for me it was worth the day.
