It’s just another brick… Ginge/Fling-flong/Rose/James/Ginger

Posted: November 24, 2012 in life
Tags: , , , , , , ,

It’s been a while since I have thought, or mentioned the brick wall that sat before me. In this very same spot, some five years ago. A new chapter, a new start. A world out there that I wasn’t aware of. The routes that I would take and the bricks that would be added to that ever increasing wall.

A time for reflection, as that brick wall that has sat infront of me for the past 5 years comes to an end very soon. It will be a sad day and there are already mixed emotions to leaving this place. My battery hen style apartment within the city centre. My ‘start of a new chapter, a new life’ and the things that it has brought along the way. The challenges, the peace, the parties and the neighbours. The new friends, many of which will be with me, I hope, for the rest of my life and not to mention the BRICKS.

It was 22nd January 2008 I moved in. A journey which in no fashion went to plan. One that should have taken around 40minutes maximum, turned into one that would take alomost 3 and a half hours instead. A broken van. Masses of black smoke and a call at the chippy were, apparantly, nothing to worry about. The important thing was that I was on my way. My only thoughts, as I sat there with a massive smile upon my face, was to the conversation that might be taking place in the car behind. It was this Friday afternoon (after school had finished) I had roped in the help of my friend Rob and my second mum Jenny to help me move. Promising them that it wouldn’t take that long and that by 7pm they would be back home over the water with their families. This was not that case. We were actually travelling down the East Lancs road at a maximum speed of 20mph….if we were lucky.

Eventually we arrived. The van was unloaded. The money was paid and I was in. I sat there in my new home surrounded by the boxes and furniture. I sat in the corner after everyone had left and looked at my life piled high in brown cardboard boxes, smelling slightly of smoke from the van. I was free. I had done it. I was happy, but still I felt as though that brick wall was there. It was the removal of one brick, but there were still plenty to go. And the boxes needed unpacking….

As I didn’t know anyone in the city centre I became rather attached to interior of my apartment and getting the place sorted. Unpacking my belongings and putting them where I thought best fit. I didn’t mind. I could close the door and refined myself again. I could be me. I could get out of bed when I wanted. Go to bed when I wanted and actually do whatever the f**k I wanted when I wanted. But this soon passed. I needed to get to know some people.

One of the first people I met in the city was Fling Flong (or James, Rose, Ging, Ginger or basically anything else you may wish to call him with a massive reference to the ginger). This friendship was hard. Not in the aspect of talking to Ginge, or meeting up for a drink or anything like that, but more to the fact that I am allergic to orange and this was the major barrier that I needed to overcome. You see, James, is orange. Not literally, unless we are talking hair then he quite literally is. This to me was a mission. My first point of call, before any night out would be to the local Boots Chemist to stock up on piriton to hopefully help me survive the night out in his company. As you can see this has been a success and I am still here today (maybe very much to the annoyance to James), but it does have to be said that he is a great friend. And no, not as boring as some might think. I for one love his knowledge of History!

Through the meeting of James my circle of friends grew larger. He soon introduced me to his friends Mike, Karl, Richie, Justin and the numerous, or even endless number of men that he seemed to have on the go! (non of which are listed prior). One for everyday of the week, let’s say more like one for every hour of the day. There were a number of occasions I would walk passed his flat, on my way to Tesco, and there would be a queue around the block waiting to enter his layer. So much so a mobile canteen unit was regularly posted on the square outside, and records show a weekly turn around of £100.00+ just, solely from his callers.

I don’t know if I dare say, but it was probably this ginger apparition that kept me on the straight and narrow (until he was drunk, then it was role reversal) in my first few months of being a city boy. He showed me the sights. Some of which I wish he hadn’t, and unfortunately they are still the ones that cause me to suffer nightmares to this day!  This cutting tongue has wounded me, many a time, but I won’t have it said that I haven’t been cutting back, as I have.

He is the only guy I know who has two vodka bottles in the cupboard, red square for the visitors and smirnoff for his own consumption, but I won’t hold that against him. I suppose it has to be said that everyone needs a little bit of ginger in their life. (more apt now that his solar panel has grown rapidly over the years and the comb over is no longer having the desired effect he hopes).

So to my ginger friend, who walks at lightning speed. For some unknown, ungodly reason moved down south. I raise my glass!  ( I would say bottoms up but he will take this literally and the last time that happened, many a car, lorry and bus were loast thinking a third Mersey tunnel had opened!)

 

 

 

 

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