Friday, 24 February 2012

The Milkshakes

Susan Jones
Chummy was his own man. An independent go-getter. When he set his mind on something, he made sure he got it. He had the answer to everything; there was absolutely nothing that our Chummy didn’t know. From listening to friends’ girlfriend woes, to giving advice on financial issues, though Chummy himself was a walking danger zone where owing money was concerned. That’s not to say he didn’t pay his debts, just that he left it until a knock on the door from men in smart suits beckoned.
Sharp as a box of Stanley blades, he was hard to pin down. If Chummy said, “Meet me in half an hour,” you could make it an hour. When his M.O.T. was due, he booked it a month later. Knowing Chummy is an enlightening experience. Throughout his schooldays he sent out only one Christmas card to his one special friend. Chummy has an important date this summer. He’s best-man to that one same friend; who, because he knows Chummy too well, will tell him the wedding is two o’clock; it is actually three o’clock. Chummy wouldn’t miss it for the world. To know him is undoubtedly to love him.

Nic-Nak had a shop full of unusual items. From toys and sweets to tools and biscuits. Ladies from far and further than that, shopped at Nic-Nak’s. It wasn’t only a shop; more, a shopping experience. His effervescent conversation ensured that once inside his emporium, customers found it difficult to leave. Though leave they did, loaded up with trinkets, biscuits and sweet scented soaps. Once a month he ran a raffle. Top prize being a Panda bear or sometimes a huge fluffy dog. One day Mrs Pierce called in to see what he had on special offer. As she walked in, Nic Nak burst out laughing.
“Well hello there, have you dressed up as a lady for the fun day Mr….er…..which Mr are you?”
Mrs. Pierce, realising Nic Nak meant no harm, besides she did wear the trousers in her house, joined in the merriment.
“You, silly old bugger Nic Nak you! I’m dressed as me-self you rogue you. Only you could get away with calling me a man.” That indeed was a fact. Anyone else would have had the handbag treatment from Mrs Pierce. Nic-Nak, on the other hand, sold her some fruit salad and fresh cream.

She’s pretty, sweet and just about as girly as a girl can get. Rich and generous to those she loves, and that’s not that many people. You get a warm glow when she’s around; you always know when she’s around because she never stops talking, and I mean, talking, analysing,
“Where am I going wrong?” type of debates.
“What do you mean? Where am I going wrong?”
“Why haven’t I got a boyfriend? My Nan thinks I’m too bossy.” I think her Nan’s too bossy. She thinks her Dad’s too bossy.
Strawberry shake is stronger than she thinks; she does have a knack of turning up smelling of strawberries. That’s a gift she has - turning a bad situation into a good one. She makes me laugh without even trying. Utterly sensitive, feeling everyone’s pain, yet capable of standing her ground and causing a mini earthquake if she has to. Frothy, substantial, honest and faithful; with her, life could never be dull.

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