Cup of Tea

Old Winston’s in the pub again - you can smell him above stale beer. That bloody old blue singlet ain’t been changed for a year. His hands ingrained with grease ‘n grime; a week’s stubble on his face. Hair on his arms and shoulders say he may be closer to the ‘apes’. Yet Winston is a proud bloke who never left the good old school; he doesn’t have a job that’s permanent but the dole’s against his rule. So he spends his time with rubbish; so at the tip the biggest rat. There’s plenty who have run him down who can thank him for that. He’s got everything you’ll need to help you when you’re in a spot. You won’t find a thing you’re after if it’s something Winston hasn’t got. So when my old EK packs it in, it’s off to Winston I will go. The part’s encased in rusty shells that were once like mine you know. Today my coil is playing up, so it’s on old Winston’s door I knock. I told him what I’m after. He said ‘There’ll be one down the block. Before you go - you’ve got all day. Come inside and yarn with me. But first I’ll put the kettle on and make us both a cup of tea”. When inside - what hit my nose! The house stunk of firewood smoke. Winston pushed aside his dirty dishes before he finally spoke. “There’s yer seat; do you take milk?” I said no when I usually do. Wondering if I’d get this ‘cuppa’ down and keep me lunch down too. “Here, take my cup” Winston said. “This cup I’ve had for twenty years. It’s served me well for all that time, filled with whiskey, tea or beers. I shared it with my old dog ‘Jack’ when he was crook before he died”. I hoped he’s joking when he grinned - “It’s been a chamber pot at night!” Thick black stains around the lip plus two whiskers made me think, perhaps there hasn’t been a day; this cup had ever seen the sink. So I turned the handle ‘round and from the clean side drank me tea. “Well ain’t that something” Winston grinned - “You’re left handed same as me!”