It’ll take more than that to bring Ben Buskin to his knees.
I was determined to come out on top. Yes! Just you see if I don’t.
Hello diary, my old friend.
Well, like I’ve always said, you never know what’s round the corner. I had a couple of surprises today; both involving women of course. One was a bit unnerving, and the other positively amazing. I still don’t quite know what to make of it all.
I reckon I must have done something very wrong in a previous life, or I wouldn’t be punished the way I’m being punished now.
I arrived at the station at nine a.m., right on time. Most times the damned train is late, and other times I find myself stranded on some scary platform in the middle of nowhere! Anyway, not this time; although the train driver must have had an argument with his wife, because he was whizzing over the rails like a demented hooligan.
‘I think I’m about to be sick, dear!’ The fat woman sitting next to me had already fallen asleep on my shoulder, but it wasn’t her fault, as she had a droopy neck; or so she told me when I shook her awake.
‘You’d best sit up,’ I told her encouragingly, ‘…I’ll see if I can find the conductor.’ The last thing I wanted was to turn up for work with a jacket coated in the remains of her breakfast!
‘Give her a sick bag!’ The conductor was none too pleased, and neither was I.
‘Give her one yourself!’ I mean…you can’t let the buggers get away with it, can you?
Anyway, to cut a long story short, she got her sick bag, and I got as far away from her as I could; though she kept looking at me with a peculiar glint in her eye. ‘Sorry dear,’ I wanted to say, ‘but I’m not that desperate.’ At least, not yet! How dare she?
What’s more, a muscled-up weirdo with a crew-cut on the next seat kept eyeing me up. I nearly asked her what her game was!
Thank God I got to my station unmolested…life is a terrifying lottery, don’t you think?
The van was waiting to collect me as I came out of the station. ‘Good morning, Ben, how was your journey today?’ Dressed in a long, white overall and smelling of dog-chuckles, Poppy is a real sweetie; though you wouldn’t want to kiss her after she’s been canoodling with the canines.
Feeling sorry for myself, I climbed in. ‘It’s been one of them journeys from hell,’ I moaned. ‘The train driver was hell bent on breaking every speed limit in the book, and some woman was threatening to spew up all over me.’ I gave her all the gory details, ‘And would you believe the conductor had a go at me when I refused to take her the sick bag!’
‘Really? And what did you say to that?’ she asked. Poppy can be such a trial at times.
‘What do you think I said? I calmly reminded him that I was a mere passenger, and that it was his duty to “give her one”!’
Poppy started laughing. Honestly! Is it me, or has the whole world gone completely mad?
As we drove along, I took a sneaky look at her. Some people say Poppy is quite pretty, but I can’t quite make up my mind. I suppose with her wild, curly hair and those long, blonde lashes over sapphire-blue eyes, there might be something cute about her.
But then, who am I to say? She’s so preoccupied with her dungarees and other people’s animals; I can’t imagine her being dressed to kill, or rolling about in bed playing catch me if you can with another human being. And she would never flaunt herself naked in a see-through negligee…or would she? I’d better watch out. There I go again with the daydreams!
‘What are you staring at?’ Poppy asked.
‘What d’you mean? I wasn’t staring at you!’ I can sound really wounded when I put my mind to it.
‘Well it certainly felt like it!’ She flew the car round the bend at a hundred miles an hour.
Leave her alone, Ben, I told myself, before she kills the pair of us.
‘I’ve already said…I was not staring at you!’ I reacted with a cutting remark.
‘No need to be catty.’ She seemed hurt.
‘What do you mean…catty?’ I said. ‘I’m a man for heavens’ sake. I couldn’t be catty if I tried. The trouble is that’s all you’ve got on your mind…cats and dogs, and things that cock their leg over…other things.’
‘What other things?’ Poppy wanted to know.
‘I dunno…plant pots, trees, and things like that.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’ Poppy obviously didn’t think so!
‘Leave me alone, I’ve had a bad enough morning already!’ I was not in a pleasant frame of mind.
‘Oh what! You mean you forgot to feed your Mum’s goldfish?’
She was giving me that kind of grin she gives the animals when they want feeding, I half expected a meatychew thrust into my mouth, thank you very much!
‘You know what’s wrong with you, Ben?’ Poppy went on.
‘No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.’ Why did I say that?
‘You need to chill out.’ Poppy said.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I put on my most outraged voice.
Putting the fear of God into me, she screeched the van to a halt in the middle of the street, ‘You listen to me…’ Yanking on the hand-brake she swung round and looked me in the eye, ‘You’re on edge all the time; it’s not good for you. People have heart attacks and everything, being on edge like that.’
‘I can’t help it. I’ve got a lot to contend with.’ My mum was right. I really can be sulky at times.
‘You might be surprised to know this, but you are not the only one!’ Poppy complained.
‘What?’ I didn’t know what she was on about.
‘I said, you are not the only one who has a lot to contend with.’ She was really ranting!
‘Is that so?’ Now I was fed up.
‘What about me?’ Poppy went on.
‘I don’t know. What about you?’ I really hadn’t a clue.
‘You know…’ Poppy said mournfully, ‘…my favourite dog passed away last week, and you never once said you were sorry.’
‘That’s because I wasn’t.’ It’s true! ‘That dog was not even yours. What’s more, he was mad as a march hare…eight times
