The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

About twelve foot, I think.



Having come out of a relationship,

wherein the pain of the first had

been replicated by the second, not

a job, nor the voluntary work, was

enough to distract me from the dark

thoughts, when they chose to hold

sway.



I’d worked the set backshift, so the

operator could go home, to her

young Lover, or fall asleep over the

set; although truth be told, I don’t

figure that was the bosses intent, as

she was also seeing him, as an aside

from his wife.



Then on the weekend, when the club

goers were seeking a way home; and

the coaches were dropping off, I’d

stand at the top of the steps, from the

fly-ridden cellar where they main set

was; looking out across the Mersey to

the twinkling lights of Liverpool; as

I stood there my clipboard in hand,

trying to keep a semblance of order,

by writing down name, date and the

destination, for each car that had been

ordered for each person before me.



And the drink being the drug that it is,

There were changes in my customers

that made them into a Hyde to the Jekyll

they’d have been the day before, or even

the day after, as I’d seen time and again.



And, there were many tussles and fights

and with the women, it was always’ over

a guy that a friendship would be lost; or

a new dress would be queried as to cost,

which would lead back to a tussle and fight,

in which more than once, that new dress

had been ripped, before my eyes.



I recall one particular night, a fight occurred

on the steps, between a woman at the top

and, another on the bottom, with me in the

middle, which hadn’t been the place to be…

which brings me back to that night, or

perhaps I should say, early that morning and

hours before dawning, as the coaches dropped

off, not once but thrice; there were ninety odd

punters there, many of them testy, all wanting

their taxi’s home.



And the stress of the moment, coupled with my

Feeling of utter loneliness, amidst ninety odd

people, just churned at my gut and messed with

my head at a time of the morning I wished I were

abed.



“They’re cars mate, not planes,” I’d said to more

than one punter, when they’d asked me, “How

long is my car going to be?” Either that or, “About

twelve foot, I think.”



And, as I stood there, bereft of a sense of me, it’d

surprised me to see coming toward where I stood

from my left, supporting a fellow either side of her,

was a young woman I knew, in black, purple and

blue…



She’d walked straight toward where I stood, my

clipboard in hand, intent on getting her friends

and herself home, after their visit to the tram sheds

and the beer festival, which they’d evidently quite

enjoyed.



“How are you?” She asked, with a beautiful smile,

that seemed to warm that darkest place in my heart

long enough for me to pause a second before I had

answered honestly, “Shit.”



And then I’d just looked at her; and the tears had

silently run down each cheek as I could contain

them no longer. And as I had cried, in front of

ninety odd people, she took me in her arms and had

allowed me the honour of feeling one person can

give to the other, with the warmth of a hug.



And that’s the story of how an embittered man learnt

to touch and feel again, through the good grace of a

compassionate woman and, a hug.