Schoolfriends

So I’ve been keeping my head down for three days. Two of my old school friends came up to Bangor on Wednesday afternoon and insisted I go out drinking with them. Half-past two Thursday morning, my friend Ben was caught urinating on a parking meter. He protested his innocence, as all innocent men do, by urinating on a police car. In the ensuing fracas, a certain handsome man in a thong, who was only trying to calm things down, found himself pinned against a wall and being advised of his rights. He was taken into custody and spent a miserable few hours in the cells until he was liberated by Romanian paramilitaries who have since taken every opportunity of reminding about her reputation and standing in the community.

Since then, I’ve been trying to live down the shame of a police caution while trying to persuade my friends to go back home. They went last night and I’ve finally got my life back together.

There is a moral in this story about not being able to choose school friends. Any other time in a man’s life, he can decide who he wants to know. School friends are bad pennies. Every single one of them.