A Word of Advice

So I ask this man I meet, ” What do you want out of life apart from love, recognition and a sense of inner peace.

” I want a bit of that, know what I mean”. he says,winking at me in an exaggerated manner. He is either talking about the opposite sex or is on the verge of some violent stroke: only time will tell.  “And how will you get it” I ask with a bravery born out of ignorance. “I’m going upmarket:  house , car, suits that say, Hey. The man is here and  I am the man.

” Will that bring you love, recognition and a sense of inner peace ?” I enquire

“Look mate” he says, ” Let me tell you this. Women don’t give a monkeys about Love ,recognition, and a bit inner peace or whatever. unless it can be found in a clothes shop or the bottom of a glass of champers. Take it from me” he says laughing. “I’ve forked out enough on those two things to know what I’m talking about.”

Possibly that’s true I say, straining my sense of diplomacy, but it’s not all about women is it. What about travel, adventure, experiencing different cultures and all that stuff ?”

I’ve done my bit of travelling he says, but most of what you want is right under your nose. This has a whiff of profundity about it but I could be reading more into his sentence than he intended. Whose to say.

Sadly when a couple of pints of ale have slid down my throat my sense of conversation can become a bit surreal. So I look at this bulky well dressed man and say, “So whats your attitude to Yoga then ? “.

He looks at me now, as though checking out what planet I’ve returned from. “Ye what”.  he says registering me as a weirdo.

“You know, Yoga. It increases muscle tone, flexibility and can give a sense of inner peace”

“You need to get a life mate” he say taking another sip of beer. “I’ve got all the inner peace I need and no one has ever complained about my flexibility. Know what I mean”

We are in a bar and I have bought him a drink so instead of hitting me he decides to give me a few home truths to help me on my way. “Look son, it doesn’t matter whether you are in London or Saudi bleedin Arabia. Champers and a buying her a new dress will get you all the inner peace any man can wish for. Believe me. I don’t just wear the T shirt. I printed the bloody thing”. Anyway, I’m off now but let me give you a word of advice. If you want to get anywhere, you need to get yourself some decent shirts.”

“You may be right” I said.” I wish I could have told Ghandi that”.   He shoots me a look of incredulity and leaves.

And so it could go on apparently. The conversation is not real, or at least I don’t think it is but it reminds of someone I met who regarded the quenching of appetite and garnering of prestige as the purpose of existence.As he said, “I’m driving the Porsche, so whose right.