Maybe Scrooge had a point

It’s the only way I could get to see the inside of a private school. We did have free school milk, so life wasn’t all bad.

The production was put on by my friends, The Davenham Players. I say friends, but I really mean I know some of them. I say know, but I mean one of them spoke to me once. He shouted ‘shift, you’re in the way’. I didn’t mind as he said it in such a theatrical manner.

A young Richard Burton I thought but not as Welsh. It was staged in conjunction with some of the school students. Notice the difference, we were pupils and now they’re students. How on earth you direct so many actors at once amazes me. There seemed to be hundreds of them. I imagine it must be far simpler organising the morning shift at Robert’s bakery and not so many costume changes.

It was a very enjoyable night out and we had a glass of naughty wine; only one mind. Mother Nomates was keeping an eye on me until she fell asleep halfway through. That is no reflection on the actors, she has slept through many a production including Grease and The Lion King.

I can imagine she slept through the war and woke up married to my old man. Every time Scrooge said anything miserly, Ms Nomates would pipe up, ‘That’s just like you that is!’. ‘It’s not a pantomime’ I said, ‘anyway what is wrong with being careful?’ Maybe Scrooge had a point. It seems to me that wherever you go today somebody is out with the begging bowl. Does nobody go to work any more? As soon as somebody asks ‘Would you like to donate to a poor country no one has heard of?’ I reply ‘Would you like to buy a ticket for the next Billy Nomates fund raiser? It’s only six quid a ticket and the drinks are cheap.’ That shuts them up.

Just try shopping in a supermarket. At the front door we had the poppy man for weeks on end. I had to hang my head in shame every time I walk through the door. Not because I haven’t got one but I had so many at home.

You feel so guilty don’t you if you bought from somebody else? If I wore them all I’d have a bigger row of poppies than some soldiers have medals. Even in jest, fighting your way through town cannot come anywhere near fighting in the trenches.

Then we have some girl dressed up as a princess asking for money. A piece of advice darling, if you want to collect for the poor, look poor, Ms Nomates does in the togs I buy her.

There is nothing wrong with charity shops. It’s the Army and Navy shop she hates. No woman likes to go out dressed like a Japanese general. If we are lucky enough to battle our way to the checkout we find an army of kids wanting to pack our bags. Go home and tidy your room.

The checkout girl or Ms Nomates should do that. Better still I can organise my own bags. A little soft voice always emanates from a pleading mouth, ‘Do you want any help?’ ‘Yes please, you pay for Ms Nomates tights, the booze, cooked meats, expensive French cheeses and the fresh meat and I’ll pay for the tea bags’.

Have you had the really rude obnoxious girl knocking at your door yet? When you tell her that you support your own chosen charity she tries to make you feel bad. ‘So you don’t want to help cancer victims?’ Listen sweetheart, if you really believe you were put on this earth to feel better than the rest of us then get a job as nurse. I’ll drive you to work.

Better still, stop wasting your time foisting your sarcastic remarks and study to be a surgeon. Then you might have us in stitches.

And another thing, do you want to buy a ticket for March 18? Only £6 a ticket and the drinks are cheap.

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