The Time I Confronted The Staring Man

London Underground, The most convienient way to travel around the city? I'm normally a big fan of it's services and for the most part sing it's praises; not having to wait more than approximately 4 minutes for a tube, environmentally friendly and provides over 20,000 jobs. However being on the inside is a different story. If journeys on the tube weren't uncomfortable enough with the lack of personal space and the sizeable amount of commuters that lack personal hygiene, why is there always a starer on the carriage?

Well after a long and miserable day at work, Uncharacteristically I knew something was going to tip me over the edge, I wasn't quite sure what it would be, or the form it would take, but I knew a storm was brewing and all it needed was a one more straw to break the proverbial camels back.

It was 1735 and like everyone else on the over crowded platform, I waited in anticipation for the tube so we could charge like baying wolves and secure ourself a seat. It is all about the timing and I was victorious. I smiled gingerly as I crossed my legs and began to read my Evening Standard, this would be my home for the next 18 minutes and I was going to make my self comfortable. However as I sat down I could feel myself being watched. I could feel someones eyes piercing into the side of my face, you know that feeling you get when someone is watching you, its like a sixth sense, an eerie feeling that can make you feel paranoid. I became slightly self conscious and rubbed my nose, just in case I had a stray bogie, then subtly wipe my mouth, just incase their was still evidence of my prawn mayonnaise sandwich in the crease of my lips from my rushed afternoon snack, nope....nothing.

I go back into London Underground lemming mode and attempt to look in the only direction that people aren't present. After a sustained period of being stared at, I worked myself into a low level frenzy and unanswered questioned sprayed around my mind. Why was this man looking at me? Did he know me? Did I know him? Did he have a problem with me? He was breaking all the rules of London Underground etiquette. Everyone knows when you are on the tube you do 1 of 4 things: A - read the Evening Standard, B - listen to music C - go to sleep or D - play Candy Crush. Last time I checked staring someone out wasnt on the list.

He was staring at me like he wanted to take my soul from my body one blink at a time. Well I wasnt going to let him, it was my soul and I am keeping it. I then realised how girls felt, stares without words.

Was this an act of confrontation? Yeah he's confromting me I thought to myself. I was going to put an end to this. He's challenging me at 547pm on the central line between Bank to Queensway, he probably does it all the time I infer, trying to intimidate people and pick fights. Yeah thats what he is, he's a fight picker. He's a fight picker in a tracksuit with broken shoes and he wants a piece of me. Well not today! I enthuse. Dont let this tailored shirt, sharp shoes and man bag fool you, I can get down and dirty. "Im from east london where you watch your mood or you end up in a box like an oxo cube"....er hmm. And with that I can feel adrenaline pulsating through my veins, a rumble in my stomach that transfromed as it ran up my osophagus, past my vocal cords then morphed into words as it battled its way through my gritted teeth...."you alright mate?" I say confrontingly as I stare deeply into the windows of his soul, analysing his every move with the intensity of 1000 suns.

"Yeah" he replies casually, inciting my wrath even more, "I was looking at your coat" he continues "its nice, where did you get it from?", "Ahh thanks mate" I respond sheepishly, "It was a gift". I pick up my evening standard and smile embarrassed.

The Time They Had a Holiday Romance

Holiday Romances, everyone's had one, haven't they? Chances are if you have been on holiday you have been in a relationship that has swept you off your feet, got you into situations that you didn't expect and left you quivering for more. Broadly they come in two forms.

The Fraudulent

If you've ever been to Jamaica, you will notice there are guys just chilling and walking around the beach with seemingly nothing to do. They are known as Beach Boys and have quite a reputation. Beach Boys generally seek out a female tourist, sweet talk her panties off, make her feel like the sun shines from her anus, mentally and physically transport them into the stratosphere, only for her to come crashing down to earth once she finds out that he is after one of 2 things, her money or marriage. But not marriage for honourable reasons, marriage so he can get his "papers a foreign" aka a visa.

Well it was worth a try wasn't it Susan, after all, maybe you could have been the one to change him. These women can often be found with a pay day loan application in hand screaming..."I thought he loved me!" Nope, "that gannne man" as my dad would say and like a puff of smoke he disappears and is on the prowl for another. Caribbean countries are pretty notorious for this but I hear waiters and bar men in general, specifically those in Turkey, Spain and Greece are prolific at selling dreams.

The Legitimate

You meet someone on holiday that you are instantly attracted to, the feeling is mutual, you end up spending all your time with them, they show you new things, they speak with an accent, they touch your soul spiritually, they blow your mind sexually (you didn't know you were that flexible until you met them), you think about them constantly and then are left wondering what might have been once you board you flight and return to your boring reality. Now some people are fortunate enough to never meet their holiday romance again and can forever live within the memories of their dream relationships. Others however are less fortunate and meet them again only to realise it was not what they thought it was and of course there is also the minority that maintain a good relationship and the minuscule that make it work in the long term.

But why do they happen so frequently and why do they seldom work in reality? Why would you allow yourself to drift into deep water whilst in unfamiliar territory? Particularly when you are at your most vulnerable, but not when you are on a night out on friday in liquid (do people still go there?).

Once again I posed these questions to my trusted network of friends and came out with a variety of answers ranging from, "cos your on holiday innit" to the more thought out response of "on holiday people are more open and relaxed and as a result are more open to new experiences and are less critical of thier partners".

I have to agree and think that the reason we become so quickly besotted with people abroad is due to a few things; we are more open to new experiences, we let go of our inhibitions, we are less critical of the people we meet and we give people a chance, (although the sun, sea and alcohol plays a key role). It also makes me wonder how different this world would be if people were a little less serious and did what they wanted to do rather than what other people think they should. There is a part in the video above which talks about being trapped in someone else's master plan, where all she feels she is doing is almost following a repetitive cycle, like a lemming, "go to school, get a job, get a mortgage". What if rather than reserving that free spirit mind frame for our annual summer holiday, we used it on a day to day basis. Sure nothing would get done, but I'm sure you will be much happier doing it.

Overall, although most people think holiday romances are destined to fail in the long term and they kind of are by definition, I don't think it matters. If you are able to really be yourself around someone, I think you should. Go out there and enjoy yourself, we only have 5 weeks of annual leave a year, best to spend at least 2 of them being happy.

What do you think? Leave your comments below.

The Time I Knew WWF Wasn't For Me

I was in Cancun for spring break! Whoop whoop, I was living the freshmen's dream. It was the mecca of irresponsible students, the city where biceps came before brains and where brains came to die.  The only thing of importance in Cancun was alcohol and lots more of it. The level of alcohol consumption can be analysed in this short story. On the first night of my trip I stumbled out of bed and staggered down to the hotel restaurant with the taste of tequila festering in my mouth. As I wandered past the pool I was greeted by the sounds of a group chanting "bo-dy shot, body shot!". For those of you that are innocent and unaware, a body shot is a when someone consumes a shot of alcohol from the belly button of the opposite sex. I looked at my watch to find it was10am. I repeat this was happening at 10am...I was on my way to breakfast. 

So having taken 2 days to adjust to the masculine and intense culture which was ever present in this sunshine city, my brother and I decided to lay on the beach to relax, detox, chill and catch a few rays. After all what's a holiday if you can't do that. How this innocent sunbathe ended up with myself with a near broken neck and needing a massge from a fruity looking dude with surfing shorts and hair flowing to his shoulders, still confuses me.

Do you have a sibling? Are you the younger sibling? Well if you are im sure you will feel my pain. After taking a stroll with my brother down the beach we saw a few guys play fighting in the sunshine. It looked like fun. Picture this scene, music blasting, the sun blazing, alcohol flowing, people dancing wildly on the beach; nobody had a care in the world.

This environment made me come out of my skin and caught up in the hype of the moment I take a look at my brother and say to myself, this is my chance, I'm not "young one" anymore I'm going to take him. I'm going to show him whose the "big brother". The idea of defeating my brother fizzes in my mind like a shaken bottle of lemonade and the more I think about it the more I believe in myself.  The Rocky theme beats loudly in my head. The powerful trumpets raising my pulse with every beat. I can do it! I will avenege all those times that he out muscled me, out thought me and tormented me as a child! I'm taller, leaner and adrenaline is on my side. This battle of David and Goliath is going to have a twist! 



I begin to challenge him and trash talk. He doesn't need much encouragement and accepts my offer with open arms. I circle him like a vulture, analysing his every move. We start to wrestle..."Im going to take you", I mutter, psyching myself up in the process. The iconic scene in 300 flashes through my mind, "This is Sparta!" I envision myself giving him the sparta kick into the Caribbean sea. That's for the time you sold me fireworks, took them when I wasn't aware and then told me that I must have forgotten that I used them (I was 9 years old) I mumble...but think twice once I realise I havent stretched my legs. 

Then I visualise giving him the Stone Cold Stunner...could that work in real life? "thats for the time you turned of all the lights from the fuse box and locked me in the house" I whisper, but then I realise I don't have JR comentatiing on this battle so it wont have the same affect. 

I throw caution to the wind and dive in...god dammit he's got a low centre of gravity, this may not work...I jump out of the grapple attempting to reassess my options. In my peripheral vision I see a small crowd gathering, I dive in again this time going for his legs, I've got them, surely i'll avenge my defeats. Suddenly he gets me in a headlock, I kid you not, I was in this headlock for an eternity, you could have gone home watched a full season of breaking bad, came back and still not have missed anything. My head was literally being removed from my neck one vertebrae at a time. I was being hung with both feet on the ground.

He goaded me, "give up, you know you want to"...I did want to, but pride is something that doesn't disappear easily from a stubborn mule like myself. My face is now embedded in the sand, the sand which massaged my toes only moments earlier was now an accomplice in my imminent murder. After what felt like forever, I reluctantly ate humble pie and tapped out. I took another L, but lets look on the bright side...I didn't die, i'll get you next time bro, when you least expect it. 

Best Chat Up Line Ever - Part 2

This is the second part to the story from the previous post.

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Best Chat Up Line Ever!

This is a short story about what I think was and is one of the best chat up lines, its absolutely priceless. Stay tuned for part 2.

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Top 15 Wins For School Kids Of The 90's

1.) The feeling of accomplishment when going up a reading level. #Boss

2.) When your teacher uses your work as an example.

3.) Getting your alien pregnant...did anyone actually manage it?

4.) You weren't cool unless you had at least 5 of these in your English book.

5.) Getting your YoYo to sleep was the bain of every 90's kids life, until the release of the X-brain. This single handedly revolutionised the YoYo game. I saved up forever to buy it! 9.99; a small fortune!

6.) What's the reason for wet play? Stupid question, for girls to make these obviously.

7.) When this rolled into the class there were hi-5's all around. However it always seemed to be The Never Ending Story..sigh.

 8.)You knew it was going to be a good day when you saw the dinner ladies handing this out.

9.) I'm sure I played this game more than most. I have tea time club to thank for satisfying my investigative and inquisitive mind. There was always one smart ass that would guess before asking any questions.

10.) Started off with one of these cards, given as a gift (or stolen, depending who you speak to) and managed to trade myself into a huge collection. Proudest moment, selling Chansey for a tenner. Get in.

11.) Never quite got the point of these, but at one time you couldn't escape them, they were everywhere.

12.) Heads down thumbs up, I remember a lot of tempers flaring in this game, friends choosing friends didn't bode well with those on the wrong side of the inner circle.

13.) If anyone can remember the name of this game I will be incredibly impressed. What was with the creepy ass faces on the back of the pieces! Damn.

14.) I think this picture speaks for itself, we have all been there. Then having to see the rest of term out with broken shoes because your mum doesn't understand the importance of next goal wins. 

 

15.) When your name gets mentioned in a book.

Let me know if I've missed anything. 

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The Time All Hell Broke Loose

Primary School was a scary time for all of us, we were thrown out into the big wide world and were left to fend for ourselves for the first time in our young lives.  You didn't have any friends and you weren't quite sure how to make them. You were dropped off at school with your superhero lunch box and left to to your own devices with your only guardian being a teacher that was more concerned with how many cups of coffee she could consume then your well-being and in my case she couldn't even be bothered to pronounce my name correctly.

"Wayston...is Wayston here"....I turn around looking for a Wayston, once I realise shes talking to me I reply "nahh you kind of just say it how its written miss", "Raston...is there a Rassssston...?" she shouts,  sigh..."fine it's raston, rastons here". Oh the joys of growing up in a white school......"Why are you black?"...."Does your poo come out white?" All questions faced on a daily basis.



The infants were all well and good but when you hit the junior playground, that when s**t really got real, all bets were off, children were taller, fatter and more ignorant. During school days there was a clear hierarchy and respect was predominantly achieved by age and my, my, my did the teachers make you aware of it, it seemed before you were recognised as an individual you had to be in Year 6. The monitors were all in year 6, the year 6's got a prom, the year 6's even got to sit on an elevated platform. They were the top of the food chain and didn't they know it.

I'll never forget those chilly mornings as we (year 3's) rustled uncomfortably with our legs crossed on the solid vinyl flooring, (we knew we couldn't get comfortable but it was worth a try) looking behind us to see the year 6's perched on wooden benches staring down their smug noses at us like we were mere peasants.

There was a natural order of things; the year 3's were afraid of the year 4's, the year 4's were afraid of the year 5's and so on. But on one winter afternoon, the rule book was thrown out the window, nobody was safe, it was prison rules. For what happened on this glorious day nobody could have foreseen. Some say it should never have happened, some say the dinner ladies should have seen it coming, some say it should have been wet play.  It was on this day that I realised the impact that words could have upon a human being and ultimately the strength of a 10 year old.

Upon hearing this insult it was as if the gates of hell had been opened and a swarm of locusts had been sent to annihilate the junior playground leaving no skipping, sponge football or hula hoop free from desecration. All had been calm up until this moment and it was business as usual, each year group had there own designated area of their playground that they played in acceptingly.

At the time of this incident I was deeply engrossed in a match of football "West ham" vs "Arsenal" of which I was playing as Ian Wright, my childhood hero. Just as I dribbled past my opposition and drew my puma sting AstroTurf trainer back to strike what would have certainly have been a powerful shot past a helpless goalkeeper I heard, two fatal words echo from the other side of the playground...."YOUR MUM!" The playground stood still and silence fell, you could hear your own heartbeat, I immediately stopped what I was doing and turned to the direction of the echoing voice. The calm silence was suddenly broken by a scream of rage. A year 6 boy had insulted a year 5 and rather than accepting his position as an inferior he challenged it.

The scenes which ensued can only be compared to the visuals and lyrics in this video.



It was blasphemy and it was madness, but rather than taking out an army of Persians, he took out a entire year group single handedly. He didn't discriminate either, boys were thrown on their backs, girls tossed to the floor, he took out dinner ladies, equipment, senior management. Anything that was unfortunate enough to cross his path was an enemy. He was a wrecking ball, bodies were hitting the floor all over the playground. I looked on from a safe distance as the madness continuued, shell shocked. Why did my parents send me to such a lawless place? I wondered as the chaos surrounded me. Hell hath no fury like a child that is on the other side of a your mum joke.

Fail safe to get out off a heated your mum joke situation

The outburst was epic, there is no denying that, but what was more shocking was the fact that he had the audacity to attack a year 6 and not only did he attack them, he destroyed them and not only did he destroy them....he survived! Amen, he survived. As a result they were all afraid of him! The year group dynamics had now shifted. School had changed forever after that incident, the year 6's were no longer untouchable. Although that child did get excluded, he did it for the bigger picture, he was an idol, a matyr some may say, he took one for the team, we were no longer scared.

The Next Time I Stayed In A Hostel...

I was in New York! The concrete jungle where dreams are made of! I will never forget the taxi journey from the airport to our apartment when that song came on as we cruised through Manhattan as the bright city lights ignited the city. It was enough to send chills down your spine. And it did! I was here!

After spending a few nights in the comfort of our apartment, under the hospitality of our generous hosts, I decided it was time to go it alone and experience what this city really had to offer! I wanted the Miami experience! I wanted alcohol fueled nights with people I'd never see again, I wanted to ask someone where they were from then have to pretend I had heard of it, I wanted someone to walk into my dorm with a bottle of Jack and say “lets get tanked up!” It may seem like a lot but it happened before, why cant it happen again?… I wanted to stay in a hostel.

I ran to the nearest internet café on 125th, looked online, found the hostel with the best reviews in the best location, packed my bag and jumped on the one train bursting with anticipation. I couldn’t wait, how many people would be in my dorm? Where would they be from? Where would we go out first?  What would I wear? All thoughts ringing through my head as I galloped up to a miserable looking old man, with grey hair matted hair, olive skin and a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth at reception, "hey what’s up" I exclaim in high spirits, with a tinge of an American accent which I had picked up from all the stateside sitcoms I watched as a kid. I had City Guys to thank for this particular dialect. I repeat myself, as by his motionless expressions, he couldn’t have heard me…. could he?  "Hey what’s up! I’ve got a reservation!" He takes my passports, grunts then hands me my keys.

AA - Automobile Association...right?

Still fueled by high spirits I bounce up the three flights of stairs to my room, I was like Tigger on heat. I reached the peak in about 3 steps, I push the door open with excitement to see a middle aged man on the bottom bunk reading what looked like a C.S Lewis novel.  He looked happy to see someone enter and we engage in meaningless conversation for 5 minutes. I then attempt to persuade him to come and chill outside. After realizing I’m onto a losing battle I break out my party starter, my crimson sword, my rocket launcher, my harrier jet to shake this guy into life! My bottle of flavored Vodka…Boooya!!! …"Check mate!" I say to myself glumly, I’ve been all around the world and not one person has been able to resist the taste of this delicacy on their lips…to which he replies, "ahh im with AA mate"…. I said "ahh that’s cool", blissfully unaware of the significance of the statement... "So you fancy a drink?" I crack open the bottle, smell the sweet scent of the marshmallows and exhale with a smile full of satisfaction…I gesture for him to smell it….

Not sure if this advertising campaign does any justice to my case , but  this is the best alcoholic drink...EVER!

"Alcoholics Anonymous" he replies “ I’ve been clean for four years” …I pause for a moment digesting the words which trickled out of his mouth…awwwwwkwarddddd…well this wasn’t going to work…. I picked up my bag, threw it in the locker, grasped my bottle of Vodka tightly by the neck (ensuring he saw me take it) and headed dejected to the lobby, to find two middle aged women playing chess! Where the hell am I? An old peoples home or a hospice! Miami this was not!

There Ain't No Party Like An S Club Party!

As lethargic and aged as this performance may seem, it cannot be denied that if you were born in the late 80's or early 90's in England, you inevitably grew up listening to S Club 7. After hearing they have reunited I played this tune to one of my friends and his first words were, "this seems like the happiest thing ever, I expect to see rainbows and Unicorns when I leave the house now". And I agree, its such an uplifting song it makes you think anything is possible...and it is! Listen to the words of this song, they may come in useful one day. "Don't stop never give up, hold your head high and reach the top!"






Don't stop, never give up
Hold your head high and reach the top
Let the world see what you have got
Bring it all back to you

Hold on to what you try to be
Your individuality
When the world is on your shoulders
Just smile and let it go
If people try to put you down
Just walk on by don't turn around
You only have to answer to yourself

Don't you know it's true what they say
That life, it ain't easy
But your time's coming around
So don't you stop tryin'

Don't stop, never give up
Hold your head high and reach the top
Let the world see what you have got
Bring it all back to you
Dream of falling in love
Anything you've been thinking of
When the world seems to get too tough
Bring it all back to you

Na na na na..

Try not to worry 'bout a thing
Enjoy the good times life can bring
Keep it all inside you
Gotta let the feeling show
Imagination is the key
'Cos you are you're own destiny
You never should be lonely
When time is on your side

What Do Women Want?

I heard this joke and found it quite amusing.

"A woman needs four animals in her life: a mink in the closet, a jaguar in the driveway, a tiger in bed, and a jackass to pay for it all"...funny, but could there be any truth in it? Could women be that shallow?

What do women want? It's the age old question that has been irking men for years. Four simple words. This is probably the most frequently asked question that has never had a definitive answer. What do women want? It has been a topic of discussion of hapless men all over the world since the dawn of man and it recently became the topic of discussion between a few of my friends. I'm sure many smarter men than us have asked this question and failed to achieve an answer (even Sigmund Freud gave up after 30 years of research!) but hey, why not give it a go, lets find out what the average East London lad thinks women want.

I gather a few friends and go straight for it "What do you think women really want? I ask inquisitively, "A sharp groan comes across the table from an obviously dejected and defeated male. "Listen yeah" he begins "women don't even know what they want, so how would we know!" A cackle of laughs akin to a pack of hyenas rapture around the room. 'Naah, have you seen my car, they like nice cars" interjects another. "Ahh...so that's why you got that car?" ponders someone else. After a series of jokes I quickly realised this wasn't getting us anywhere, until someone shouted out, "what about what we want!?"

Worked for him, kinda...

Interesting, I thought. After all, in a successful relationships one of many decisive factors is the ability to  meet each others needs. So I changed my stance...what do we want from women? It actually turned out that our list was pretty short and slightly unrealistic. "They need to make a specifications tab on Tinder" quips one, "I'd search for a good cook that doesn't talk through Match of the Day, then I'd set my location to within 15m" He chuckles. The room erupts with laughter again. As the evening wore on and the alcohol vanished from our glasses, one thing was certain, we still had no idea of what women wanted, but at least we had achieved something, intoxication. We decided to call it a night and left in our blissful ignorance.

Ultimately, although we all have the same core fundamental needs of physiological, safety, love and belonging, esteem and self-actualisation (fulfilling your potential) everyone is different and you cant tarnish everyone with the same brush, all women aren't indecisive and emotionally needy and all men are not self confident and able to put up a shelf.

We've all been there!

In my opinion we all have the same needs but in order to satisfy them for a woman you need to put in a bit more effort. For example, men like to be listened to when they have a story to tell, women like to be listened to all the time. Men occasionally like to be complimented, women like to be complimented all the time. But in the end i'm just as stumped as the other 3.5 billion males in this lonely world. Maybe it's the kind of assumption from the opening sentence as to where men have been going wrong all along? So to surmise, what do women want? Why don't you ask them?

The Time I Realised My Dad Was Right All Along

Now I don’t like preaching or telling people how to live their lives but I had a thought today and it was about happiness and I wondered how a person could achieve happiness? Can it be a continuous state or is it just a temporary emotion? and why do some people blame others for their unhappiness. Well after 30 seconds I got bored and started watching Worldstarhiphop Vine compilation (damn those women know how to shake their ass). But in my 29 seconds of enlightenment here’s what I came up with.

Its fair to say I have been heavily influenced by my father and my dad has about 3 catchphrases which almost anyone who has spent a day with him will know too well. My dad is a simple man and in his company you can expect three things, an infectious laugh,  to be told a great story and a distinct lack of sympathy when listening to someone complain about losing a material item.

My dad taught me how to smile, lol

Any time we misplaced something, seemingly lost something, had a second thought or even had a slight regret my dad would belt out his three iconic words “cha, that gann man” (translation - that is gone, forget about it) in his Jamaican accent. That was a constant saying and echoed throughout my childhood, “cha, that gann man”.

It didn’t matter if you lost a pound, wallet, camera, car, passport, laptop or limb when telling my father about it you could expect those same 4 words every time, to which my siblings found annoying and dismissive at first but then hilarious. And as a result anytime we (siblings) were feeling sorry for ourselves we would say his words to each other in his Jamaican accent and the mood would quickly be lifted , ”that gann man”.

Now the more i've thought about it the more ive come to realise the signicance of it, It really stems around the idea of letting go of something that you no longer have control over. Ultimately you could say that not a lot is in your control and all is in the hands of god, the universe, karma or whatever you believe in, but being able to let go of things enables you to overcome obstacles which you may not have been able to other wise.

How heavy is a glass of water?

I heard something recently and it asked, how heavy is a glass of water, and the answer was basically, that it depends how long you are holding onto it.. the longer you hold onto your burdens or problems, the longer they will hold you down and the heavier they will become, so put the glass of water down and let it go.

Let go of your anger and disappointment, be appreciative for the people who are around you and the things you do have, that’s the key to happiness. Just say to yourself….”cha that gann man” and keep smiling. Works for me!

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Top 10 Chat Up Lines...Do They Work?

The Day My Childhood Ended

The coming of age occurs for men at different ages, each man takes a bold step out of his childhood at different times. Each man matures at a different rate and the process of becoming a man is no mean feat. Many boys are forced out of their childhood through situation, some are self driven to become men and others choose to stay within the realms of childhood. The Peter Pans of society.

I must say I was introduced to manhood through situational reasons. I neither wanted to enter manhood nor was I prepared for it. And my entrance was sharp and unforgiving. I remember it as vividly as ever, like it was yesterday. I woke up excited, full of life and exuberance, it was my 17^th birthday. I had more gifts than I could imagine, I had done the whole rounds, I was sure to visit every family member, aunties, uncles, and even the random people my mum talked to on her weekly trip to the market. No one was safe. It was payday and I was like a bailiff, I would not miss a repossession. Better yet I was like a collection plate at a Pentecostal church, everyone knew I was coming, they just didn’t know when and weren’t surprised when I came around twice.

I was on my final collection for the day, saving the best till last… I turn up at my grandmas with a broad smile on my face, enjoy a Caribbean meal, laugh along with my grandfathers jokes and then it was time, everything was going right, she handed me a large silver envelope embellished with glitter. I opened it with excitement. Grandma always looked after me, visiting her was always a pleasure, warm comforting hugs, copious amounts of dinner on the table and to top it off the monetary gain. Everything was perfect at grandmas. 7th birthday…"here Ross, here’s £5 to get some sweets!" 11th birthday …"here Ross, here’s £10 to get some sweets"…16^th birthday…."here Ross here’s £20 to…" you guessed it, to get some sweets. A visit to grandmas was like a trip to the royal mint.

Grandmas tradition was to wait until you were leaving before giving your gift. My heart was filled with joy as I received the luminescent silver envelope. I glumly thought to myself "ahh you've done it again, haven't you grandma". Don't count your chickens before they hatch is probably the moral to this experience, because I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but an empty card was not one of them. Have you ever opened a card carefully expecting to see money gracefully fall from it's crease, instead the only thing that drops is your heart to your stomach, leaving you with no choice but to try to hold back your disappointment and grin graciously. Nothing was in there, not a red cent. I frantically re-examined the envelope to make sure I didn’t miss anything, whilst attempting to maintain my composure and keep a smile on my face.

I read the card aloud, "Happy Birthday Ross, You're a big man now, we hope you have a lovely day" I smile attempting to hold back my initial disappointment (I failed miserably), but then immediately come to the realisation that in their eyes I had grown up and had achieved adulthood. That is definitely something to be proud of, I suppose.  It was now time for my younger cousins to take the throne. Sigh, I admit I had a good run. Being the youngest child, allows you that. But like all good things, they come to an end and mine had come to a brisk and premature one. It was all downhill from here.

The Challenge I Couldn’t Reject...

Back in the good old days, you know, the care free student days, the days of Call of Duty all nighters, drunken evenings in the SU bar and when fine dining meant pasta for breakfast, lunch and dinner, working out for me was not just a past time, it wasn’t a hobby, it was a way of life, it was embedded in my routine. I loved any form of physical activity and participated in anything that was thrown my way. Boxing, gymnastics, football...just show me a sport and I’d partake in it, show me a tree and I’d climb it. And anything could set my passion alight, a TV show (last man standing) a movie (Rocky) or even a randomly placed obstacle in the middle of the street.

Probably at the height of my fitness (lol, at the matching belt and laces)

However since those glory days, life has caught up with me and time constraints have found a way to eat into my recreational activities ever decreasing the time available to participate in the hobbies, which I loved and cherished and that contributed to so much of my personality and character.

Alas, that all changed on an alcohol fueled September evening. On this evening whilst innocently sipping a caprinha with a friend, I was blindsided, taken from behind, kicked in the nuts, insulted some may say!

Whilst puffing my chest out and proudly bragging about my previous exploits in the fitness arena, the medals I had won, the goals I had scored, the acrobatics I did effortlessly, she told me that she couldn’t believe it and that she would never have assumed I could have been serious about working out AND that she is more of a gym person than I could ever be!…That was the last straw! *flashing lights* masculinity challenged! Now this conversation got more excitable and heated until we agreed a challenge. A challenge that would demonstrate not only physical strength, but strength of character, of commitment, of persistence and ultimately of self-motivation AND that would most importantly make her eat her words!

The gauntlet had been set, the guillotine had been weighted and stabilised! Whoever attends the gym the most each week gets a point, the person with the most points by Easter Monday wins! Wins what you ask, Wins a....

Now I am used to competing in sportsman’s bets, whereby the winner takes home bragging rights or man points or if a financial reward was at stake, it would be no more than a pound or a pint at a Weatherspoons (of which my “friends would never pay, citing hard times as an excuse”).

But wow, how the stakes have been raised, how the ante has being elevated. I have stepped into the big leagues with this one. As the delicate cocktail glasses crashed against the sturdy mahogany table, I realised I had helplessly meandered into deep water, drifting out to sea like a lonely can of cider at Blackpool Beach, tossed by a pubescent teenager whilst having it large on a Friday night. Then instantly with an intoxicated handshake the wager was set.

Before....

After

If losing ones masculinity wasn’t enough, Financial ruin was also on the cards…for the person who wins the most points and is victorious in this battle of will wins a luxury holiday to…. Santorini. Flight and hotel included! I hope she has an application read to apply for a pay day loan because in the infamous words of Nas "I WILL NOT LOSE!". 

Game on! The beast has been awoken! Fyi at the time of writing the score is 3 weeks to 1 in my favour! Lets do this!