Up the revolution

The dolphins are tricky fellows and will only come and play when it suits them….

From out of the darkness

I have taken to spending a lot of time on my back garden wall. I look and look and search for the dolphins, but although they are out there, they wont come and play. I don’t know why that is. Bloody minded I guess. Must all be males! Its a generic thing though. Seeking out dolphins; seeking a new direction; searching for a new fight. Or just give up and roll over?

However during our enforced LockDown I heard from Jonathan again. It had been a long time and the last communication we had he said he didn’t have time for me or my vacuous comments, as I was ” silly” and a Tory to boot. Jonathan is, by his own judgement, rather important and his opinions are not to be trifled with. He started by saying that he hoped I was keeping safe but that took up all of one sentence and about five words. He then went on to say that he hoped I was using this ” down time” to read sensible material, not binge on TV Box Sets and plan for a better future, without the blood sucking Tories in power. ( I skipped over that bit) He was sad that Corbyn had departed and had absolutely no faith in the ” new bloke” as he was essentially another Tony Blair, or a Tory in Red clothing. I had forgotten how strident his views were. It was rather exhausting just to read. He said if I had any sense left, which he strongly doubted, I would still reading The New Yorker each Monday night ( as indeed he was ) and even though he knew I ” loved Boris” he couldn’t believe we had put someone with the morals of an alley cat in power.

We never spoke of anything small

The first time I met Jonathan he both impressed and scared the s**t out of me. I had been invited to a dinner at least nine or ten years ago and it was simply to make the numbers up. I had been talked into it by my friend Mary, who fancied the host, even though he was married. It would appear that Jonathan had likewise ( been invited to make the numbers up – not fancied the host !) He ended up sitting next to me and Mary ( her of no children and Bat Shit Crazy fame) and although Mary is always on the lookout for a suitable male, she took one look at Jonathan’s shoes and declared that ” he doesn’t have a pot to piss in” and ” who wears square toed shoes? Most common!” Consequently, she turned to the diner on her other side, leaving me to make conversation, however, inane with him opposite me. Jonathan did not make for easy conversation and said that dinner party chit chat was not for him. He then turned full on to me and asked me for my view on Politics.

I thought for a minute and then declared, rather loftily, that “nothing much was going on in politics at the moment“. I thought this would impress him and also allow me time to think. He was silent for a moment. Probably a nanosecond but his response was truly grounding. ” Spoken like a true Tory as well as someone who has the square root of fuck all knowledge in politics” I remember the silence and put a lot of attention in cutting up a carrot and trying not to feel uncomfortable. “The only good thing about the Tories” he continued” is Sam Cam. She is one woman I would like to screw the arse off” And that was my introduction to Jonathan….

I told him that I had my own business; paid my way and my taxes and didn’t sponge off the State. There, that would impress him for sure. At this point however he was incandescent with rage and banged on about all of the expensive cars on the driveway; some of them with personalised number plates adding to their egos and vanity and that he had come there on public transport as he didn’t believe in this elitist shit which I was clearly a fully paid signed up member of. He said I should be taxed to within an inch of my life and would line up and shoot all those clever Accountants who think its fine and dandy to squirrel away their clients’ money and make lower income mortals suffer. Had I spent time up in the forgotten hinterlands of the North lately? If I hadn’t, (and boy did he fix me with a stare) then I should hot foot up there pretty damn fast and see how, indeed, the other half live.

Mary had found more of a willing dinner table guest than I had and was coquettishly smiling and laughing with him whilst I was getting hotter and hotter under the table with Jonathan. I also had worn my ( one and only) pair of much coveted Prada stilettos and were trying to keep my feet tucked well under my chair so he didn’t notice that my shoes were anything other than downright serviceable. Had he known the cost of those shoes would have fed a family of six for a month I think I would have been incarcerated on the spot.

Money Sex or Power

I was still giving him my fullest attention when he said that he was a Lecturer in Politics ( surprise surprise) at some minor University in the North ( my description, not his ) and that he respected Caroline Lucas ( although didn’t fancy her) ; grew tomatoes on his balcony; ate a very healthy diet and swam fifty lengths of the local pool each morning before lectures. He mused further, having found out my relationship status, that The Pilot had probably only taken a Job overseas so that he could continue to shag his Hosties without fear of being found out (that bit I probably couldn’t argue with…) and was the money he was ” paying me!” worth the lost of my self respect? Again, I moved my Prada’s out of the way as they were indeed a present from The Pilot on his last return from overseas. Had Jonathan found this out he would have declared them hush money or slush money or simply that I was an Aviation Whore. It didn’t really matter which, they would have been seen as an immoral inducement to keep me on the road to ruin and my soul forever in purgatory .

When the evening was over and we went to leave, he said I would probably be a catch for someone ( although certainly not him) and he continued that I was too parochial to waste any more time on but gave me his card anyway. I watched him leave in somewhat of a maelstrom

As luck would have it, the rain had set in and I had both a car and an umbrella. Jonathan sadly, did not have either. However, because I knew he eschewed any form of luxury I assumed he would want to get absolutely soaking wet on his tramp to the train station. Socialists are always better, I feel, when they are suffering for the cause. As I drove past him at the exit; his collar turned up and his head down I took great pleasure in honking the horn and waving. Driving through the deepest puddle I could find, I watched him jump, just a moment too slowly, out of the way of the splash. Who said there is no pleasure in childish things…..

Reminiscing over, I gaze back at the sea and those illusive dolphins again and decide whether I will reply or not. I am not sure I am currently in the mood for mental gymnastics each day. Or have I just gone soft?

Meanwhile he introduced me to The Jam and Style Council. Angry music for angry people! Maybe its just time to get back on the horse one more time…….

5 comments
  1. Omg I had forgotten about Red
    Robbo alias Jonathan sounds the perfect lockdown companion for you!

    1. IAN – ( or should I say, ” Birdie!” ), How the devil are you and lovely you popped by?
      Glad you are now fighting fit and its you who used to see Red Robbo /Jonathan at the Races didnt you.

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