Paper, Paper, Everywhere

On Sunday, after a hard day sat the Nature Centre, my friend picked us up and drove us home with all the stuff. I was very hot after sitting in a sweltering marquee all day. I was tired after writing poetry for various people: the little boy who wanted one for his mum; the potentially awesome lover; the artist; the three cousins. I had written for all of them over two days. In between that I had made bracelets with cup holders, given away treasure from three tins, made glasses with pipe cleaners and made figures from beads and wire. Now I was hungry. I’d had a hot chocolate, some fox’s glacier mints, a satsuma and an apple all day.
On the way to my friends’ confirmation in St Martins I asked my friend to drop me off at the Big Bulls’ Head opposite the Coach Station. He’s used to my typical Libran indecisive nature. He of course headed for Oxford St, I meant the old Coach Station in Digbeth, One mand with 3 disabled females trying to give directions. So we drove around and around the back streets of Digbeth. He told us to shut up and let him go his way. J sat there saying, “If you’d listened to me you’d have been there by now.” So we got to the Big Bulls’ Head and instead of throwing us all out of his car he came in for a drink. He then left with J who was headed for Sutton. I’ve not heard from him since.
I ordered a very large beef rroast dinner. Y and I shared chicken soup, peas, roast potatoes, carrots, Yorkshire pudding and beef with lashings of gravy. This was after I sent back the chipped bowl. The chef came out to see who’d sent his bowl back. The pudding was ice-cream and apple pie. I didn’t want to share it. Y must have sensed it because she said she wanted something else. Relief! The waitress told us it san’t free and we’d have to pay. She ws new. She didn’t know me. So Y had chocolate concrte and custard. She takes things literally so I was too tired to explain and decided to ignore her. Feeling well and truly stuffed we went to the Kerryman which was empty. I was greeted like a queen by two of the regulars. Then I skipped the Dubliners where I sing Sundays and Mondays as it was after 7 and I’d have missed Des Ryan’s Free and Easy.
As I stepped into the Bull Ring Tavern, I was astonished at the greeting. About 6 drunken, sun stroked men started hailing, saluting and blowing kisses at me. “Your Majesty” " Your Grace. Queen " I went bright redtoo. I’m sure I was surrounded for a few minutes. I finally found a seat and then went for a drink. Then I put up my song. As I walked to the mike they started againn, As I sang Something Inside so Strong they joined in a tuneless but merry chorus. Then someone started tearing up paper. As I finished the sone he showered me with paper. He staggerred in front of me as I walked to my my seat. he made me a carpet of confetti. Paper, Parerp, Everywhere.

Paper, Paper, Everywhere

Shirley Cooper (B)Lake

Birmingham, United Kingdom

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Written in our writers group from a list of suggested titles.

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