The last ten years of my life

“Terrence. It is you isn’t it?”

“Tom. Good lord? I’ve not seen you for …”

“Must be ten years. You live here now?

“I do, I never leave this pub.”

“Mind if I park me tuft?”

“Please do.”

“Didn’t you use to have hair?”

“Fell out. Must’ve been worrying about what happened to you.”

“Yeah, same reason I went grey, worrying about you. What’ve you been up to all this time?”

The question. The question they always ask. Sum up the last ten years of your life in a simple sound-bite. 

Where to start? What to leave in, what to leave out?

I could start with relationships: I met my life’s love shortly after I last saw you. We moved in together, married, the whole caboodle. It lasted four years. It was one of those stuck in a mortgage we couldn’t afford situations, wanting kids but eternally putting them off until we had money, living somewhere we didn’t really want to, cut off from friends and old haunts.

After that came the lost years, spent battling depression, not going out, not seeing people, I’d lost confidence, lost the will to live if I’m honest. Then three years of romantic chaos, a revolving door of girlfriends. Then another drought.  I’m seeing a new girl now, Sally. One month now. That’s who I’m meeting. Don’t scare her off, I’m desperate for this to work. Would it be impolite to ask you to leave the second she arrives?

Or should I talk about work, my career. Well, I took a big pay cut to enable me to get out of London, and I’ve never got back to the old income level. I find work outside the city dull, cosy, easy, insipid, without challenge, the people I work with are mostly incompetent, but not in an interesting way. Plus I’m getting old. I get turned over for promotion in favour of people less skilled than, no experience, no qualifications, who just happen to look younger. That’s what you need to get on in this world, hair. Do you remember when I used to have hair. Oh yes, you do, you just said.

Spiritually I’m still in recovery mode. I lost my religion during the divorce. I often wonder what it’s all for, why we’re on this planet, whizzing through space without so much as a turtle’s back to support us. And the people today, what the world has become – I walk down the street I can almost smell the greed and ignorance. I’ve got facebook friends blaming the recent floods on our giving aid.

If you mean the writing, I stopped that ten years ago. 20,000 words into my first novel I gave up hope. Too many words, I didn’t know what to do with them all.

Or I could just say same old same old.

“Oh, you know, same old same old. Yourself?”