14 | March• 2019
MY STORY
dressing gown and made my way to
the cafeteria.
Hiswifequicklyspottedme
andpattedhimonthearm.“Look
darling, it’s your muse,” she said,
beckoningmeover.“Docomeand
joinus.We’vegotyouacupoftea.”
Sheleanedacrossthetableandsaid
inahushedtone,“Ihopemysilly
husband didn’t embarrass you the
other day.”
“Not really,” I replied. “I did get
some funny looks though.”
Shesmiledandanswered:“You
absolutely made his day. You see, he
hasalwaysfanciedhimselfasabit
ofaJamesBondandeversincehe
startedthisclass,he’sbeendyingto
usethatlinefromthefilmThe Man
with the Golden Gun.He’stickled
pink that he got the chance to!”
Afterthat,Icouldn’thelpthinking
that being a ‘muse’ and making
someone’s day was worth a lot more
to me than £2.50 an hour.one afternoon and spotted the nice,
elderlycouplefromthenightclasses,
strollingarminarmdowntheother
sideoftheroad.Thehusbandcame
to an abrupt halt and stared in my
direction.Ismiledandwaved,
hoping they wouldn’t want to cross
theroadforachat.Iwastakenby
complete surprise when he called
out,“Ah,MissDunbar!”inavoice
loud enough to carry clear across the
street.“Ididn’trecogniseyouwith
your clothes on.”
He then flashed me a cheeky
grin,whilehiswifeshookher
head in mock despair. She smiled
apologeticallyandwithatugonher
husband’sarm,theybothcarried
on down the road, chuckling away.
I keptwalkingontheotherside
of the street, trying to ignore
thecuriouslooksonthefacesof
passers-by.
The next Tuesday at the class, the
old gentleman behaved as normal
and asked if I’d had a good week.
I elected to say nothing about the
high street incident as it was, after
all, a pretty good joke. When break-
time rolled around, I pulled on my
Doyouhaveataletotell?We’llpay
cashforanyoriginalandunpublished
storyweprint.Seepage5 for details
on how to contribute.HAIR APPARENTPointing to a 30-year-old picture of me, my five-year-old grand-
daughter said, “Grandpa, next time you get
a haircut, have them cut it like that picture.”
Problem is, I wasn’t half bald then.
SUBMITTED BY ALLEN JOCHIM