Bonza Geoff.
Geoff was an only child and I’m sad to say was spoiled rotten by his adoring parents who were ruled by one upmanship. Considering that they lived in a rather run down part of the city its surprising in a way, they had no money to speak of, his Father was a joiner and whilst he earned a reasonable wage it obviously wasn’t enough to enable them to move to a better area. I remember that they had central heating installed over a period of years. First the radiators went in, then when they could afford it the boiler, but it was some time before it was up and running properly, although from the beginning they used to proudly tell anyone who would listen that they had central heating.
He was a thin weak boy who as far as I know only had one friend, me. On the run up to birthdays and Christmas he would always try to wheedle out of my brother and I what presents we were going to receive, he would then tell his parents who would buy him the same thing only it would be a rather more expensive version. He would then show it of to us and make very sure we knew how much it cost. This used to needle my Father no end, but it didn’t bother me at all, I learned very early on that the cost of all this to Geoff’s family meant that they lived for the most part on Jam butties and porridge.
A lot of the time I felt sorry for Geoff, he was frail and whiny and not many of the local kids had time for him. He was not what you would call a gregarious child, he spent a lot of time on his own or with his mum who used to dress him in girls clothes when she had the chance.
Still I give him his due he did try, although it could be annoying to play cricket with a guy who ran like a girl and threw a ball like a girl, and he couldn’t catch to save his life. We went through school together until high school where we went our separate ways, and I didn’t see him again until I was about seventeen. I was crossing the main road near Belle Vue when this flimsy thing in black and purple chiffon passed me going the other way. I heard my name shrieked, “David my god, how are you” it was Geoff, he pulled me to one side and began speaking at the speed of light in a very effeminate way.
It was obvious that we had gone our separate ways in more ways than one, not that it bothered me, in fact I was glad to see him again. He was different than I remembered, far more outgoing, much more confident, and funny to boot. He told me about how he and his boyfriend were in the process of immigrating to Australia and starting a new business, I wasn’t too sure about how the Ausses would react to chiffon but I kept my mouth shut. Two weeks before departure they held a party at a local club, to which I was invited, It was a good night; I wished him well for the future and didn’t see him again for twenty years.
Until one hot summer day as I sat outside my local tavern enjoying a rather cheeky lager, this huge mountain of a man dressed in white shorts and black vest top, as brown as beef and onion crisps and covered in tattoo’s came ambling toward me with a dog the size of a bear in tow. He made his way towards the front door but stopped at my table. This time my name was spoken with the kind of voice that bloke who advertises action films uses, sort of growly. “Dave, Dave, Its me Geoff, how are ya mate” I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked up at him, a full six foot and built like a brick water closet, he stood there grinning from ear to ear. I didn’t recognise him but said hello anyway; well I didn’t want to feed his dog with one of my arms, best to ere on the side of caution.
“You don’t recognise me do yer mate” he growled, “Its Geoff” he said his surname, suddenly realisation dawned on me. “Geoff, blimy lad how long has it been, but you used to be a…..” I bit my tongue. We sat in the sun for an hour or two catching up and enjoying our drinks, and despite myself I had to ask. It turns out that he apparently was going through a phase, all be it one that lasted thirty odd years. He was now married with three kids and prefers to put those years behind him (His terminology not mine) I asked if his wife knew and he told me that it was his boyfriend who introduced them at a party. Apparently the boyfriend ran off with an indigenous native from those parts and she became his shoulder to cry on.
The last time I heard from them was about five years ago, they had upped sticks and moved to Greece where now they run a Hotel and by all accounts are doing very well. He emails me from time to time and always invites me over for a bonza holiday (I assume that means good) but as yet I haven’t taken them up on their offer.
Maybe next year, tell you what though, it takes all kinds.
He was a thin weak boy who as far as I know only had one friend, me. On the run up to birthdays and Christmas he would always try to wheedle out of my brother and I what presents we were going to receive, he would then tell his parents who would buy him the same thing only it would be a rather more expensive version. He would then show it of to us and make very sure we knew how much it cost. This used to needle my Father no end, but it didn’t bother me at all, I learned very early on that the cost of all this to Geoff’s family meant that they lived for the most part on Jam butties and porridge.
A lot of the time I felt sorry for Geoff, he was frail and whiny and not many of the local kids had time for him. He was not what you would call a gregarious child, he spent a lot of time on his own or with his mum who used to dress him in girls clothes when she had the chance.
Still I give him his due he did try, although it could be annoying to play cricket with a guy who ran like a girl and threw a ball like a girl, and he couldn’t catch to save his life. We went through school together until high school where we went our separate ways, and I didn’t see him again until I was about seventeen. I was crossing the main road near Belle Vue when this flimsy thing in black and purple chiffon passed me going the other way. I heard my name shrieked, “David my god, how are you” it was Geoff, he pulled me to one side and began speaking at the speed of light in a very effeminate way.
It was obvious that we had gone our separate ways in more ways than one, not that it bothered me, in fact I was glad to see him again. He was different than I remembered, far more outgoing, much more confident, and funny to boot. He told me about how he and his boyfriend were in the process of immigrating to Australia and starting a new business, I wasn’t too sure about how the Ausses would react to chiffon but I kept my mouth shut. Two weeks before departure they held a party at a local club, to which I was invited, It was a good night; I wished him well for the future and didn’t see him again for twenty years.
Until one hot summer day as I sat outside my local tavern enjoying a rather cheeky lager, this huge mountain of a man dressed in white shorts and black vest top, as brown as beef and onion crisps and covered in tattoo’s came ambling toward me with a dog the size of a bear in tow. He made his way towards the front door but stopped at my table. This time my name was spoken with the kind of voice that bloke who advertises action films uses, sort of growly. “Dave, Dave, Its me Geoff, how are ya mate” I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked up at him, a full six foot and built like a brick water closet, he stood there grinning from ear to ear. I didn’t recognise him but said hello anyway; well I didn’t want to feed his dog with one of my arms, best to ere on the side of caution.
“You don’t recognise me do yer mate” he growled, “Its Geoff” he said his surname, suddenly realisation dawned on me. “Geoff, blimy lad how long has it been, but you used to be a…..” I bit my tongue. We sat in the sun for an hour or two catching up and enjoying our drinks, and despite myself I had to ask. It turns out that he apparently was going through a phase, all be it one that lasted thirty odd years. He was now married with three kids and prefers to put those years behind him (His terminology not mine) I asked if his wife knew and he told me that it was his boyfriend who introduced them at a party. Apparently the boyfriend ran off with an indigenous native from those parts and she became his shoulder to cry on.
The last time I heard from them was about five years ago, they had upped sticks and moved to Greece where now they run a Hotel and by all accounts are doing very well. He emails me from time to time and always invites me over for a bonza holiday (I assume that means good) but as yet I haven’t taken them up on their offer.
Maybe next year, tell you what though, it takes all kinds.
2 Comments:
A brick water closet eh? That's very refined Dave.
Geoff makes the rest of our lives seem so conventional.
Unless you're fond of taffeta yourself!
Kaz
I prefer silk with just a dash of ice cream myself.
Post a Comment
<< Home