I was reminded today of a time a few years back – when I was younger, more carefree, childless and still unmarried.
I was driving a Jaguar and wearing a leather jacket. I was courting the girl who was unlucky enough to become my wife.
She was involved with an organisation in Govan, Glasgow, to which a local “character” belonged. This was Sandy The Ginger Haired Hunchback, and he took a shine to me and my ridiculous car.
One day before Christmas, Sandy limped up to give me a Christmas gift – one of his old leather jackets.
I was in shock for a beat, then vibrated between being massively insulted and dying of laughter. I managed to compose myself long enough to say:
“Thanks, Sandy; you shouldn’t have, I’m sure it will fit like a glove”.