Life I was standing at a bus stop today opposite the place of work I left in the lurch last November. I’d been to Manchester picking up some new tracksuit bottoms and witnessing the film Chicago. Somehow I’d managed to pick the time when my old workplace was letting out. Regular readers will know about my sheepishness when it come to old workplaces so stood furtively hoping that a bus (or taxi) would pass by. The gate opened and out walked a bunch of people I didn’t recognize. And one I did. Luckily it was someone I had liked. Although I couldn’t remember his name (and I don’t think I knew it even when I was working there). Paralised I just waved across the road.
”Hello Stu!” He shouted. Then carried on walking.
This is the story of my shortish life. Even though of late my circle of real life friends has got precariously small for some reason people remember me and more significantly my name. I’ll not have seen someone in ten years and the masons in my brain will be leaping about trying to remember their name (this is usually people who haven’t wronged me you understand) and they’ll just say, in that way, Stuart Burns (as though I was the only person they were most expecting to bump into).

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