The Great Pretender

THE GREAT PRETENDER by NIGEL DEAN

My latest story - I hope you enjoy reading it. Please drop me a line and tell me what you think - david@guyzonline.com

I noticed him as soon as he walked in. The similarity was so close, save for the moustache which was absent. I avoided staring, it obviously was not him, he had been dead for ages.

Continuing eating this was naughty, it was my third visit to this branch of the international fast food chain in a week. Usually I would eat a burger and fried at most once a week, as much as I enjoy it I could not live entirely on a fast food diet. It was strange to be there for a third time in one week but circumstances within my daily routine took me there. If my intended schedule had run to plan none of this would have happened.

Or would it ?

"Would you mind if I sat with you ?" As he approached I could not help but tell my brain no matter how close the resemblance it could not be him but then as he spoke, inviting himself to sit with me the voice, that was not similar, it was the same.

"Please," I indicated with my hand for him to sit down.

"You are Nigel Dean aren't you ?" He said unpacking his meal from its paper cartons then giving all a liberal sprinkling of salt. "Nigel Dean the writer ?"

"I am."

"Well fuck me, I thought it was you. I am dining with a fucking world famous writer !"

When he was alive he had been known for his excessive use of the F Word. Who ever this lookalike was his voice and what he said with that voice were exactly in character.

"Has anyone ever told you," I began, "that you look like....."

He cut me short preventing the full question. "Only my mother," he smiled. "That's a line from one of your stories isn't it ?"

"Yes," I confirmed, "it's from Dickie Williams."

"Fucking amazing story that. I bet William Shakespeare is bricking it in his grave in case it becomes a bigger love story than Romeo and Juliette."

Who was this person ? The looks, his voice and effervescent swearing made it clear who he was but, of course, it was not him.

"I want to be a writer," he continued. "Could you help me get started ?"

"I could but really all you have to do," I paused, "is to do it."

"I have read everything you have written, you are an on-line fucking superstar."

"You flatter me."

"I want to be a superstar." It had been at least forty seconds since he had last sworn so out came the word again. "A fucking superstar." Then he changed the sentence slightly, "I am going to be a fucking superstar."

How was I supposed to answer that ?

"So will you help me ?"

"If you want me to of course I will."

"Excellent, thank you. I'd better fuck off and start writing." He stood up. "I'll come back when I have something for you to read."

And with that the greatest rock star who ever lived was gone leaving me to clear his meal cartons and return his tray. he would cone back when he had something to show me ? I would never see him again.

At home I had three of his CD's. I put one on, turned up the volume, closed my eyes and reflected on our brief time together.

In two of my stories I had used quantum physics as a way to bring time travel into the writing. I do not pretend in any way at all to understand but I know quantum mechanics will allow an object to be in more than one place at any given time. There is not one single universe but a multiverse with an infinite space and time dimensions allowing almost anything and everything to happen. It is possible for something to be both alive and dead at the same time. But the way I had used the theory in my stories was fiction. It was not a way to share a burger and friend with a dead rock star in a fast food restaurant.

The phone chirped signifying a message. "Thanks Nigel, talking with you was really good. Thank you for your time,"

I started to reply before asking myself how on earth did he get hold of my number ? Something very strange was going on. It was to become stranger.

I did not send him a text. Using the number he had messaged me from I called him. I said Hello then addressed him by his name.

"Hello Nigel."

"How come you know my number ?"

"Sorry did my text offend you ?"

"No, of course not. I just wondered how come you know it and how if it is you how you are able to speak with me when you are dead ?"

There was silence for a few minutes then ignoring my first question he answered the second. be a star, I wanted to be a

"Nigel in my previous career I said I wanted to be a legend. You can not become a legend until you are dead. I have decided on my pen name by the way."

"What is it ?"

"Rudolph Cadwallader."

"That sounds ridiculous."

"Well fuck you," was his reply, a rely given with a smile in the tone of his voice. "Rudolph after Rudolph Nureyev."

"Not the red nosed reindeer then."

"Nigel take me seriously will you. One day in another life, in another version of the multiverse, I will become a ballet dancer the equal of Rudi Nureyev."

"So where does Cadwallader come from ? That isn't a name."

"Oh yes it is. I used to have a roadie whose name was Alex Cadwallader, we always called him Cad. I quite fancied him if truth be known but before you ask - NO I didn't."

"Didn't what ?"

"Fuck him."

"Oh, I see."

That four letter word I seldom use but in the short time I had known Rudi he had used it more times that I would expect to myself in a year.

"Time to go, I want to start writing. I'll call you when I have something for you to read. Goodnight Nigel."

"Good night Rudi."

Why did I have to go to that particular fast food restaurant at the precise time I did ? If I had not then none of this would be happening. My life, I knew, was going to be turned upside down. But within an infinite number of universes I had to be there, Destiny would have made it impossible for the encounter not to have happened.

I took myself off to bed and was soon a asleep and dreaming. My dream was a kaleidoscope, one beautiful pattern of events gently changing to another. I have never taken drugs in my life but I think they would present life in this beautiful way. My new friend was in each pattern. Friend ? Dare I call him my friend ? The world's greatest rock star, yes he was my friend.

Rudi Cadwallader, the kaleidoscope turned a new pattern. Rudi, I could never think of him as Rudolph, was a nice name. My dream through my mind. I knew next to nothing about Rudi Nureyev, yes I did know he was a ballet dancer but I had no interest in ballet. My friend obviously did.

Cadwallader, that was an awkward sounding name. Was it Welsh as my friend had said ? It certainly was not a word, a name, that would be easily forgotten once it had been heard. Could the same be said about my friend's musical stage name ? Yes, but not to the same extent as his real name. All of his fans knew his real name.

The kaleidoscope turned again and told me the phone was about to ring, told me with at least ten minutes warning. In those moments I decided I had to completely forget I was dealing with a world famous rock star, that was not part of this multiverse, instead this was an aspiring writer by the name of Rudi Cadwallader.

One more turn of the dream and the kaleidoscope allowed the phone to ring.

"Rudi," I said, "do you know what tine it is."

"Fuck that ! Listen Nigel I've someone I want you to meet and I've written the first chapter of my book. Can we come over ?"

He may have phrased what he said as a question but it was actually a statement of intent to which no answer was needed.

I started to explain where I lived but Rudi cut me short. "No need for directions," Rudi said, "we are parked outside."

How did he know where I lived ?

"This is Douglas - my secretary," Rudi said introducing the young man he had brought with him, "but he likes to be called Dougal. Don't ask my why. Fucking silly name if you ask me." That from a guy who wanted to be called Rudolph Cadwallader.

Dougal smiled a sympathetic smile as if to apologise for his employer.

"Right I'll be off, I'll leave you two to it. Dougal has the manuscript."

"You are going ?" I said.

"Nigel dear it's three o'clock in the morning, time I was in bed."

Again Dougal gave me a sympathetic and apologising smile. Rudi was then gone as quickly as he was there, leaving we two strangers to get to know each other.

"Some people think," Dougal began, "the world revolves round them. I don't know if he thinks that or not but when he was a rock star it certainly did. Now as a writer it will soon be like that again."

"You knew him before ?" I said.

"Oh yes, I was his secretary then."

"Oh."

"We had a good time then. Sorry..." He paused. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what ?"

"I didn't have a sexual relationship with him," he hastily explained. "He wasn't gay, I am but he was not." Drawing breath Dougal raced into an explanation. "He was bi-sexual, he had a boyfriend AND a girlfriend. He loved them both. He had sex, of course, he had sex all over the place. Everyone knows that, it's no secret but there was never any love in sex. he had friends, the band members, me - we were his friends. We were close and there was a friendship but never any sex. That could never have worked. " He raced through his explanation almost tripping over his words to get them out.

How could I answer that. I didn't.

"How that man survives on two, three or at the most four hours sleep a night I'll never know. It was just the same before. If he got an idea into his head he'd call me no matter what the time. He'll become every bit as famous in this dimension as a writer as he did before as a singer. Look."

He handed me the manuscript. I flicked the pages. There were about 20 of them typed with double spacing between the lines' I picked out a few sentences from which I instantly knew I was reading something special. I returned to page one and started to read properly.

"Wow !"

"Is it good," Dougal asked."

Those few pages contained only the first part of the story's introduction, neither a plot had been set down nor any character properly introduced was there but I was holding a work of genius.

"Put it this way," I said. "I have readers for my stories in fifty-seven countries of the world and I am very proud of that but I could never, never write as good as this.

"Oh."

"My stories appear on-line, they are free to read but people can make a donation if they enjoy the tale. Some do, most don't but I earn a minimum of ten thousand pounds a month. When Rudi starts to put his work on the Internet, if he does the same as I do, he'll make ten times what I do."

"So do we not need to do any editing to the manuscript then ?"

"No, it's perfect."

"Then I can do home and back to my bed. I'm not a night person, I'm not a morning person, I am middle of the day person. If I don't get some sleep I'll be completely useless. I'd better call a taxi."

"Where do you live."

Dougal shrugged his shoulders then explained where his home was.

"God," I exclaimed, "that's miles away. Even if you can find a taxi at this time of the night it'll take you ages to get home. Stay here, I've a spare room."

"Oh I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"No trouble at all. I'm not letting you go all that way before you can sleep."

"Thank you."

Back in my own bed I found myself thinking more about Dougal then Rudi. Rudi was an idol, almost unreal in his mysticism. Dougal was every bit as real as I was, as real as either of us could be in a new multiverse dimension. Although my mind was jumping all over the place I was soon asleep again, this time the kaleidoscope had a new colour in Dougal which with every turn brought him into greater prominence in my dream.

I heard Dougal's door open. I was awake. I got up to find out if he was alright. The landing light was on and there was Dougal, naked.

"Oh I am sorry," I said.

"No I am sorry," he explained. "I was just going to the bathroom."

I was a little embarrassed confronted by his nudity. I always sleep in my underpants so my modesty was covered.

"Do you think we should go through his manuscript ? He will expect us to even if there is nothing to change. I'm wake now and doubt I will go back to sleep."

"If you are sure. I'll make us some coffee. Would you like to borrow a dressing gown ?"

"I'm fine," he smiled.

That indeed he was, beautiful.

Returning upstairs, clothed myself in a dressing own, with a tray holding a cafeteria, bowl of sugar, jug of milk and two mugs I found Dougal had returned to his room. The door was ajar, balancing the tray I gently tapped on the door before entering. Dougal was propped up against pillows on the bed with the sheets covering the more important area of his nudity.

"I should have asked how you like your coffee," I said placing the tray on a table.

"Black with no sugar," Dougal explained.

"Same as me."

"Great minds think alike."

I pulled a chair against the bed and tried not to look too much at his beautiful body and imagine what lay beneath the crisp white sheet.

"How about I read the manuscript and you stop me if you have any comments as we go along."

Dougal's face changed as I read the story. Sometimes he would frown and at others smile but never did he invite me to pause. Only when I had finished speaking did he make any comment.

"The songs he wrote," Dougal began, "are true masterpieces but listen to them as many times as you will it is impossible to understand everything. I rather think it will be the same with his story writing."

"Did he ever ask you to look at a song while the composition was in progress ? Like he has done with this story ?"

"No. The band members would have had an input but only with the music. Rudi always had complete control over the words."

"I see."

"He once told me that he was The Great Pretender but I don't know what he meant by that. This is going to be a love story isn't it ?" Dougal said. "From what he has so far written I mean."

"I think that is the direction the introduction is pointing."

"None of his songs were love stories," Dougal observed. "There's love in them but it's not the sentimental love of most songs."

I began to think of the songs I had in my CD collection. I ran through them in my mind. What Dougal was saying was right."

There was a pause then Dougal said, "I've never been in love so I am not really certain what love is."

Just for one brief moment our eyes met before we both turned them away. As tiny a moment as it was thoughts passed between us.

"Rudi had a boyfriend and a girlfriend," Dougal said. "He always said love was no respecter of gender. I do not know if he was right or not about that. I could love a woman but any physical expression of love would have to be with another man."

There was a need for me to answer that, to give an opinion but before I could speak the phone rang.

"Good morning Nigel," Rudi said. "Are you looking after Douglas ? Dougal," Rudi clarified. "Don't know why he insists on that - Douglas sounds much better. You are taking care of him for me ?"

That was a strange thing to say.

"I've got the next couple of thousand words written. Get the breakfast going and I'll bring it round."

"Which do you prefer," Dougal asked, "shower or bath ?"

"Bath," I said.

"You take a bath, I'll use the shower. If I know Rudi he will be here very soon so best hurry."

I have always been shy, you can count the number of people who have seen me naked on one hand. One hand it was until Dougal was added to the list.

Dougal was right about Rudi and his timing but both of us were washed, shaved and dressed before the bell rang.

"What's for breakfast then ?" Rudi asked with a smile.

"What would you like ?"

"Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and rich gravy," he giggled then added, "I could murder a bacon sandwich."

"So bacon sarnies all round then."

"I've written more." Rudi handed me a bundle of papers.

"We can take a look once we have finished breakfast. We really enjoyed the first part, you set the scene in a unique and clever way. Dougal and I can't wait to see how you build the characters on that.

"Than you but I am afraid you will have to read this next bit on your own. I am going to have to take Douglas away from you, I need his help with something."

"Oh. OK."

"Don't look like that. I'll bring him back this evening then you can read it to him."

What he was saying definitely ended there but I could have sworn I heard the words in bed together tonight.

I gave myself a metaphorical shake to rid the thought from my mind then gave the side of my face a slap for thinking it in the first place.

"Time for another coffee then Douglas and I will have to take our leave of you."

I have lived alone for many years, I like the solitary life which works well for my work as a writer. I have had house guests, of course I have, but am always glad when they are gone and I am alone again. With Dougal no longer there the house was empty. I tried to work but my mind lost all of its creativity. I took a CD of Rudi's music, inserted it into the audio system and clicked MIX. The system selected The Great Pretender as the first track to play. As it neared the end I pressed another button so the song would repeat. Unlike many of his songs the words were easy to follow, perhaps it was because it was a cover of the 1955 hit recorded by The Platter and not from the genius of my friend. Why was this piece of music making its way into my life ?

I was not glad when I closed the door behind Rudi and Dougal. Far from it. The house felt cold and void of everything now that he was gone. I mean Dougal not Rudi. Dougal - I really do not like that name. Rudi always calls him Douglas, I think I am going to start calling him Doug.

I tidied up the kitchen, sprayed an aerosol to mask the smell of bacon then made another cup of coffee. Rudi's manuscript was calling to me, demanding I pick it up and read it. Three paragraphs into the narrative and the hairs on the back of my neck began to prick. Another two pages and my spine was tingling as micro electric shocks ran up and down the vertebrae.

"This is all about me," I said aloud.

Rudi was not using my name - Nigel - but instead calling me John. Douglas was there in the story with me but he wasn't Douglas nor even Dougal but Doug. I had only just decided I would call him Doug so how ever did Rudi know ?

Everything outside the words on those printed sheets of paper was gone. Everything in the universe, this universe, was right then centred entirely on Rudi's story. The writer's style was brilliant, genius even, gripping me to read on. My heart beat faster and faster with every page I turned.

I was reading fiction, the product of Rudi's imagination but fiction the writer was projecting towards fact. The kaleidoscope I had turning the colours of my dream was now doing the same for my waking. When I had finished reading Rudi's story that kaleidoscope was hurling one psychedelic cascade after another. My thought were racing in several directions at once as Rudi's words knotted my stomach in anticipation. Why was he doing this ?

I had never needed love, neither to give it nor receive it yet I always found it so easy to write love stories, by far it is my favourite genre within which to work. Does that make me a fraud ? Did it make my writing false - a fake ? If it was then how is it when I publish a love story it instantly becomes a best seller and earns me far more money than anything else, even fetish content ? Was I pretending ? Was I a pretender ? Was I Rudi's great pretender ?.

What a strange day. My emotions were turned upside down. No longer did I want to live a solitary life. The house was empty and I was lonely. That was something new to me. I longed for Rudi to come back and return Doug to me.

Did he love me ?

I hoped so.

Did I love him ?

I certainly wanted to.

The day crawled by. I tried to work but writing was stopped by an impenetrable mental block. I tried to listen to music but the only sound in my ears was Rudi singing and telling me I was The Great Pretender.

I read Rudi's manuscript over and over but it was the next chapter I wanted - I needed. I wanted not only to read what Rudi would write but I needed to live through it. What if Rudi did not return ? What if he did not bring Doug with him ? What if this was only a dream. The kaleidoscope was turning, twisting my thoughts. What if there was no multiverse ? What if there was no such thing as Destiny ? the thought was unbearable.

The day continued to crawl by so slowly as my emotions were constantly confused as the kaleidoscope turned. It was not until gone seven in the evening when Rudi called, "I'll be with you in fifteen minutes," he said.

I'll - Not we'll - we will.

"Is Doug with you ?" I asked

There was a pause before he answered in which I could hear him smiling through the silence. "Do you want him to be with me ?"

"Of course. He has got to read the next part of your story."

"No, you have got to read it to him and I have told you where I want you to read it. Remember ?"

I remembered ?

"That was a complete waste of a day, "Doug said when we were alone. "He dragged me round six different branches of PC World looking at laptops. One branch is exactly the same as another - same stock - same offers - clones ! At the end of the day he didn't buy anything anyway !"

"Oh."

"When he was a rock star he did not go out shopping, he would be mobbed so always sent me. Now as an author nobody knows who he is so he loves it. You are world famous and yet nobody knows who you are, that's what Rudi wants."

"Is that better for you ?"

"No way ! Before I would always drive but now he drives. you know how he always leaped about on stage and in his videos, behind the steering wheel he tries to make the car perform like that. he scares me witless. And if you think he swore as a singer, that is nothing to the way he curses other drivers."

I giggled at Rudi's stage antics translated into his driving a car.

"It aint Funny Nigel."

"Sorry. Have you read the story ?" I asked softly.

I could see Doug's face start to redden. "Yes," was all he said then added.

"He told me I was to read it to you."

"I know."

"And he told me where I was to read it."

"I know."

"What is Rudi up to ?"

"He is a kind man."

"Is he ?"

"Oh yes."

"So what is he up to ? I asked again.

"Trying to set us up."

"Why ?"

"Kindness."

"Kindness ? I am embarrassed."

"So am I."

"He has left you here again."

"Yes."

"Presumably overnight."

"Yes."

"And he expects us to get into bed together."

"Would that be such a terrible thing ? Would you prefer me to leave ?"

Before I could answer Doug began to cry. He did not make any sound, there were no heaving sobs but huge tears flowed down both of his cheeks, Frantically he tried to wipe them away but could not stem their flow.

"I am sorry, I am making a fool of myself."

"No you are not."

"It is just that I have never loved anyone in my life and now Rudi is doing this to both of us."

"You know Rudi's song The Great Pretender ?"

"Of course, I helped him script the video for it."

"It is me who is The Great Pretender," I tried to explain." "Not only are the love stories I have written fiction but I have no experiences in my life to take and use in writing them."

"Surely not."

I smiled gently. shook my head and said, "Oh yes I'm the great pretender."

"Oh my god !" Doug exclaimed. "Oh my god ! It can't be ! It is ? Yes ! No this is impossible !"

Doug stood up and turned to face me. "What is he up to ?"

I moved to stand behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Doug turned to face me again. As our eyes me more tears than ever began to spill down his face.

"What is the matter ?"

"Would you hold me please ?"

Embracing Doug I tightly pulled him to me

"This strange. I feel so strange."

"Sit down."

"Would you mind if we were to do what Rudi said we should."

"Mind ? I think I would quite like it." I smiled.

Naked and in bed together we both felt relaxed and calm. each could feel the other's body heat. It was beautiful."

"The Great Pretender," Doug said.

"That's me."

"No you don't understand."

"Tell me."

"When Rudi decided to record The Great Pretender I asked him why he was going to do it. Everything he sang was original but this was a cover, it was out of character."

"It's a good song. His version is better than the original."

"Be patient," he told me. "The Great Pretender is for someone who we shall meet in the future."

"Surely he could not have been talking about me."

Doug took my hand and squeezed it. "I rather think he was."

Rudi did not return the next morning and when Doug called his mobile it went straight to voicemail. We tried all day but it was as if Rudi Cadwallader had vanished.

"This is awkward," Doug explained. "I live in an apartment within Rudi's Kensington mansion. I can't really go back without speaking to him."

That sounded silly to me but I did not ask him to explain. I wanted him to stay with me.

"I do not want to be a great pretender. Stay here."

"Can I ? I would like that. Perhaps I should tell Rudi."

"If you like." But I had a feeling Rudi knew.

Again when Rudi called there was no reply.

We heard nothing from him at all the next day. The day after when Doug called it was to an unobtainable number.

"Perhaps we should go round to the house and see if he is alright," Doug suggested.

The house appeared to be empty. No matter how many times we rang the bell nobody came to the door.

"That's strange, Even if Rudi is not at home there is the staff."

"Staff ?"

"Housekeeper, cook, gardener, cleaner, they all live here so someone should be home."

"Don't you have a key ?"

"Never needed one."

"Well," I said, "Destiny is suggesting you don't need one here. "Perhaps we should get you one to use in your new home."

"My new home ?"

"Don't be so naive, you are coming to live with me aren't you ? That looks to be Destiny's plan."

What is the opposite of Pretender ? Realist. That does not describe the change Doug has made to my life. I became a completely different and better person. Doug also changed from the person I first met.

The days went by, the weeks went by and eventually the months went by. I continued writing but my style changed. I would like to think that since Doug came into my life the quality of my writing developed to new heights.

Doug started to call himself my secretary, secretary and promotions guy but really he was my inspiration. If he were not there I could not write even one sentence. Of course he was there, always there by my side.

We knew everything about each other, we were two halves of the same character. Since the time Rudi vanished Doug and I had never been apart. It is strange that we did not shared something which Destiny had implanted in our lives. Anyone reading this text will find this hard to comprehend but it is true.

Winter came early that first year. It was as if Autumn was passed by completely as the year leapfrogged from Summer to Winter. "I think I would like it if we were to go abroad, somewhere warm, for my birthday,"

"Where would you like to go ?" Doug asked.

"Barbados." I said without hesitation then added, "Does that sound good to you ?"

"Certainly does."

"I want to write a love story set on a sugar plantation. We could do some research there."

"So when is your birthday ?" Doug asked. "Our lives have become so close but I do not know when your birthday is. Oh I am so sorry about that."

"Don't me sorry, I don't know when your birthday is."

"I shall be twenty-nine on the fourth of November."

Not for the first time in my life since joining it with Doug's life a shiver ran up and down my spine.

"The fourth of November ?"

"Yes."

"That is my birthday but I will not be twenty-nine I am afraid."

"Your birthday will be on the same day as mine ?"

"Yes but I will be thirty-five."

"That's how old Rudi is," Doug said, "but his birthday is in September."

Rudi, I was starting to forget he ever existed. He had brought Doug and I together, I would always be grateful to him for that but I doubted we would ever see him again. Nobody has ever heard of Rudi Cadwallader and I doubt they ever would. Did Rudi Cadwallader still exist ?

We made our visit to Barbados and planned it to coincide with our birthdays. We chose a beautiful hotel on the Atlantic side of the island away from the tourists. When we arrived and checked in we found a welcome gift waiting in our room. Someone had placed a huge basket of fruit in the room. We presumed it was the hotel management but no, asking at reception we were told A gentleman left it earlier.

"There's a card here," Doug said when we returned to the room. "I am sure it was not here before."

"What does it say ?"

• "Have a happy birthday and a lovely holiday. Love and best wishes from an Angel of Destiny. PS - you do not need to pretend any more"*

"Rudi," I said.

"Rudi," Doug agreed.

The next year we did not go on holiday for our birthdays but instead chose to celebrate being together for a year. When we entered our hotel room a gift and a card were there waiting for us.

It has been like that every year since. We have never seen Rudi, have never heard from him directly and have no idea where the Angel of Destiny is but every year the gift and the card are there.

As our fortieth anniversary approached I took time to reflect on my happy, happy life. Just how much I had to thank Destiny for. I was coming up to seventy-five years of age and Doug sixty-nine. We were old men but deliriously happy. We decided for our ruby anniversary our holiday would be in California. We had been there before, several times and liked a Chinese restaurant in the old part of Sacramento, the State Capital.

When we checked into the hotel there was something wrong, perhaps not wrong but different. The gift and the card were there but the writing on the card had been changed. * "Have a happy birthday and a lovely holiday. Love and best wishes from an Angel of Destiny. PS - see you later"*

At the restaurant we were welcomed. "Your guest has already arrived, he is waiting at the bar."

We had booked a table for two but as I looked at the maitre d's list I could clearly see the number three written by the side of my name.

Rudi had not changed at all, he was the same age as when we had last seen him. "Hello you two," he smiled. "I need your help with something. Do you mind if I sit with you ?"

I hope you enjoyed my little tale. Do drop me a line: david@guyzonline.com