Galloping Gilbert.

On the odd occasion that I mow my front lawn I usually receive a visit from Gilbert over the road, a steady chap of some years, seventy-two to be exact. He stands at my gate extolling the virtues of the rotary mower over the hover mower and chides me for not doing stripes when really any way will do for me as long as its over with. “You young fellows are all the same”, no discipline, I usually ignore him and get on with it, although I have to admit to rather liking being called a young fellow.

Most times he will make an effort to help despite his age, raking up grass and filling a black bag or two. Which of course entitles him to a cup of very sweet tea, eight spoons of sugar, he never drinks coffee and considers it the main reason for young peoples lack of respect these days. “Coffee should have gone back to America with the yanks after the war” he would say.

I haven’t seen him for a while, but this weekend I was out front valeting the car and he paid me a visit, I expected the usual advice on how to do things, but he just stood there watching, hands in pockets not saying very much at all. “Fancy a cup of tea” he said, I nodded, put my cleaning gear into the boot and turned to walk over to Gilberts house, but he was of down the path, through my front door and was shovelling sugar into a cup I realised my mistake and followed him.

We settled down with our drinks in silence, all that could be heard was the rattle of teacups, this was not like Gilbert, he always had something to say. I asked him if he was ok, fine he said, fine, yes couldn’t be better, couldn’t be better, silence again. Then from nowhere, “You’re a bit of a lad, aren’t you” I nearly choked on my coffee, “What do you mean a bit of a lad?” I said. Gilbert looked at me, “I need some advice, its personal, of a sexual nature so to speak, I have to make a choice and I’m not sure what to do”.

I couldn’t believe it; the giver of all knowledge was asking me for advice, “Fire away, I’m all ears” I said. He told me that three times a week he is picked up by mini van along with several other older people and taken to a local hall where they are given a meal and drinks, and spend the afternoon dancing or playing bingo. He is the only man on the bus, the rest are women, according to him he has his pick of the ladies and all of them flirt with him. I asked him if this wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part, to which he replied “In the world of the blind the one eyed man is king”.

“So what’s the problem I asked him”, “The problem is that the only one I fancy is the only one who doesn’t flirt with me, she is a real lady and still a great looker. She doesn’t have much to do with the others, you know keeps herself to herself, sort of thing, the other ladies think she is a bit of a snot, but I think its just that she has breeding”. I nodded, “So where does the choice come in” I asked him. “Well there is another lady who I know I could get physical with because she just came out with it and asked me if I fancied a bit of hanky panky.

For the second time I nearly choked on my coffee. He carried on “So you see it’s a bit of a dilemma, do I have a go at the dead cert, and god knows its been a while since I had a go at anything, or do I hold out for the one I fancy and perhaps miss my chance?”

I thought for a while, “It’s a question of value, you have to weigh the value of both options Gilbert”, “I’m not sure what you mean” he said. “Does the chance however remote of you having a friendship with the lady of good breeding, have more value than a meaningless sexual encounter with the dead cert” I asked him. He looked a little vexed, “It might be meaningless to you mate but it’s got to be twenty years since I last had my conkers, chances like this don’t come along every day at my age”.

“At every stage of our lives we make decisions that can effect our future, and your at one now” I said.
He looked thoughtful, “The one I really like hardly talks to me, I might be wasting my time, she doesn’t flirt with me like the others, she might not even like me”. I poured another cup of tea for him, and as he began spooning sugar into it at an alarming rate I gave him the best advice I could.

“Some people just don’t flirt, its not their way, a lot of times people flirt just to boost their own confidence, she may well feel left out because the others flirt, perhaps the fact that you flirt makes her feel uneasy. Whatever the reason it’s not the way to go with this lady. You could have a good time with the dead cert for however long it lasts, but it could also be a big let down, friendship lasts longer than sex, and romance has always beaten lust in the long run”.

He gulped the last of his tea down, thanked me for the chat and said “I think I’ll have a go at the dead cert” before he walked through the door he turned, winked at me and said “Just kidding, I’m not even sure everything works these days”.