I had a meeting at the Legion last night. Now, those of you who have been keeping up with the news in the land of Binney will know that I recently stepped down from the Club Committee, and might wonder why I was needed at a meeting.

Well, shockingly, they haven’t begged me to come back. No. I had a Branch Meeting. Rather more serious and less boozy than the Club events, but there it is.

Anywho, I almost didn’t make it because I stopped at the shop for a pointless lottery ticket and was threatened with my impending death.


One of the shop lads asked me if I was ready for the big day. Well, ’tis the season, so I asked if he meant Christmas.

He replied with a mighty grin, “Yeah, it’s Christmas. I’m going to kill you.”

Now – I’m sure it’s not just me. I took him to task and asked why exactly he felt the need to murder me at Christmas.

He looked confused and told me it was a joke.

No. I got nothing.

With a speed hitherto witnessed only in dreams, I told his co-worker that, if indeed I wound up dead in the tinsel, she should point the police in his direction.

I checked with Aimée – it’s not a shop-worker’s in-joke. No-one at the Legion had the beginnings of an idea of what he was getting at. I think a good number of us will wind up looking sideways at the unfortunate young man.

The fact that I even made it to the meeting is little short of Miraculous.