Friday, 6 January 2012
Handcuffed for Attention
## A proviso: all my stories are written as fictional anecdotes, scenarios or observations, they are not intended to be offensive or representative of any specific view on my behalf. It's called fictional writing, but even so I have no intention of ever getting into politics. ##
I tilted my head to Mr. Burrows, cheerfully indicating him to carry on, that this situation at the pole suited me just fine. Always best to keep a strong sense of self importance no matter the scenario. My dad had told me this when the debt collector had called him up on the money they wrongly believed he owed the bank. Good advice that was hammered into me to be sure to use in every circumstance. My dad had stayed true to his convictions, both morally and physically after he went on 'a short student holiday to cell block 69'.
How could he be blamed for making an investment based on the profit from a different investment that had yet to be completed because it was waiting for the profits to develop it from an original investment which had stalled. Should he not be praised for being an eager capitalist?
Ireland needed people like him to keep it from reverting into a backward yuppie country with just two television channels and a strange guttural language nobody spoke but made for crap road signs. His misfortune was all because of the sudden crash and recession, which was because of the 'foreigners abroad'. This was an American crisis affecting a European one, how could he have foreseen it when even the Chinese hadn't. If he had then he wouldn't have made stupid investments to lose the money in the first place, obviously. Beside weren't we neutral so we were exempt from other countries problems??
I thought his arguments were very strong even though I didnt really understand any of it. Especially not the part of the imaginary money that only exists once somebody acknowledges its existence. Or that somebody decides that something is worth something that it might not actually be but is because they've decided it. Regardless of the confusion I admired his sense of self importance even as he had his sentence laid down to him because he maintained this sense of self importance in that it was anybody else's fault except his. Morally he couldn't be faulted my dad, he stuck to his guns. But back to the situation with me handcuffed to the pole.
It was like any other pole really, innocuous in the grand scheme of things. Had the weather turned out differently and not rained so heavily that the lads had had to seek shelter in the bushes where they found the handcuffs half buried in the dirt then this pole would have remained happily irrelevant. As it was it just happened that this pole was the closest one to the nearby shops and bus stop where the vast majority of our neighbours would congregate to do their mundane things to keep on living. Certainly not as important as our gang mentality aspirations to find a slow cat that we could test the power of an old firework with through it's rectal passage. When asked afterwards by harassed local police on behalf of the local old persons community committee who's idea this was to stick the firework up the cats arse, nobody could genuinely remember. They thought we were all lying of course, and as a result we all thought we were all lying. In actuality nobody had desperately wanted to do it, and had all quite liked that old trusting cat with the slight limp. The idea had just appeared by osmosis and everybody was doing it on tv these days so it basically made sense. On the bright side it livened up the bingo night with an excuse for a funeral gathering for the cat, everybody in Ireland loves to bond over a good solid funeral. A cat isn't the same as a dead person admittedly, it doesn't have the same extended family bonds beyond the immediate locality, but you'd be surprised how worked up people can get when they put their minds to wanting to be sad and grieving. But anyway, the pole.
Well basically, handcuffs have to be used or else what is the point of their existence. They simply become a metal ring without a purpose and having seen first hand what happens when something has no purpose, like money for instance - it just stagnates if left idle and so must be constantly moved from account to account to keep it working my dad told me - well we didn't want our new toy to be like that. So we used it immediately. I say 'we' when I mean the other boys I nominally hang around with when they are kind enough to let me. Pubescent teenagers are remarkably charitable towards their peers if just given the chance. Most are judged too quickly just because they rob a few things, cause a few scuffles or impregnate a few girls, when they are nice for the most part and people shouldn't be so judgemental. The bunch I hang around with are nice anyway, I'm lucky to know them. So what that they had left me handcuffed to the pole. It was only fair really as I do have a bigger house so I have to get some flak somewhere to even it all out, I'm just glad we had to sell the car for dad's legal bills or then they might have left me completely naked and not just from the waist down. I was glad for the shirt.
So there I was, handcuffed to this unfortunate pole, naked from the waist down after a quick scuffle which I had lost half heartedly. My dad always said that one must be a good sport with other boys and not take anything too personally, so I'm okay with them removing my trousers, underwear, socks and shoes, (I was glad they took the socks and shoes or else I would have looked really ridiculous actually), and throwing them into the trees. It means that I can get them back from up there eventually and they are close by which is handy. So I was the first 'volunteer' to test out the handcuffs, it is a badge of honour to be the first in any situation, and how can I blame them for not realising what I had tried to point out, that there was no key. I really must start raising my voice because people just don't seem to hear me apparently even in normal conversations and that's not conducive to good communication, it gets you mistakenly ignored. They had in fairness looked quite guilty when they had eventually realised it, I'm pretty sure somebody had looked at his feet in remorse, and somebody else did make a half decent attempt with a stick to get my underwear off the tree. How can I blame him for not wanting to climb up as he might hurt himself if he fell and nobody wants that. It was my own fault for wearing underwear in the first place to be honest and I'd hate to feel guilty if he had fallen so I'm glad they listened when I told them it was fine I'd do it.
So it was that I nodded to Mr. Burrows to keep walking as I knew they would be back soon with a locksmith to release me. I had told them before they walked off slowly, tired as they were from their exertions with me, that the cuffs were far too tight and were cutting off the blood supply to my hands and I know that they wouldn't want that. I shouldn't have struggled half as much really then they wouldn't have been too tired to walk faster. It takes longer than an hour to order even a coffee these days I remember my dad saying so he would always have them pre-ordered the day before to make sure it was ready precisely when he wanted it. If you're going to pay for something make sure it's the best he'd say, so I'm sure the boys were just getting the very best locksmith possibly available. I said I'd pay for it in any case, only fair seeing as it is me he will have to release, they shouldn't have to take the financial burden on my behalf. I did feel a little ridiculous in just my shirt and nothing lower down I must admit, but my dad used to say that a good looking woman could pull off just wearing a potato sack to a party and still look good. I don't think thats entirely relevant here as I doubt Mr. Burrows would walk away in embarrassment if I was wearing a full potato sack and I don't have breasts to enhance the potato sack/shirt part but it's a similar concept.
So that's how this pole became famous in my area anyway, far beyond the normal scope allocated to standard telephone poles in my locality. I still haven't grasped the full meaning of the pole oriented jokes that have gone around, this pole definitely wasn't smaller than usual as they make them all standard in the factory I assume, and why I would want to get any girl up on my pole after my experience with it is beyond me. But as my dad always said, it's better to be part of something then not involved at all and so I'm just happy to be the subject of local conversation. Even if people do look at me oddly sometimes I know they're not judging me, but are secretly jealous that so many people talk about me. I'm actually very popular if popularity is measured by how many people say things about you behind your back. Almost as popular as my dad in the newspapers these days. I'll remember to say that to him next time I see him and explain how I've followed all his great advice. I know he'll be very proud that I lasted so long without peeing publicly before the firemen rescued me later that evening, for the record it was just once and I missed that man's shoes entirely, he stood in a separate puddle. Anyhow it wasn't the lads fault that there was a repeat of 'father ted' on the television, the show is about religion and God after all and we Irish are a very religious race so they had to watch it, blasphemous not to. So I don't blame them that they forgot about me, probably my fault anyway, I should have been more memorable.
## no animals were harmed in the creation of this story, even for the inevitable research purposes required. And Ireland is still a neutral country suffering in the hands of inept financial morons, but I would never state that out loud. Finally, the pole remains in mint condition and no damage occurred to its personage so the council have no cause for concern. ##