I had feelings of ambivalence; I could have stayed, only to be penetrated by a vast amount of frozen ice cutting into me like a thousand knives simultaneously jabbing me all over my body, or I could have thrown away the vague amount of dignity I had clenched on to. My five foot three inches of manhood were not backing down. At that very moment I thought back to when I was eight and I first heard the phrase, “It’s better to die fighting for freedom than surrender and be killed. ” I was not going to succumb.

The seconds were eroding away, just like a rock does when a rabbit urinates on it, thus the process of biological weathering. However I doubt how any of that would save me, when the enemy seemed to multiply, two become four and four become nine, or was that eight. Am I hallucinating? Am I rewinding the Weakest Link? Or had I fell victim to vintage Port that had coincidently slipped into my innocent mouth? (Please, keep that that a secret! ) It was no time to run, but I grabbed what I could of my manhood and catapulted myself down the road.  The awakening Sun flooded light into my eyes and christened me for the day ahead.

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(Yeah right, as if I could be turned on that easy, I’m not a plug! ) However, what did erect concern was the vast amount of heat sucking liquid away from my exposed body. My lips, as dry as dust, were begging for water – but I managed to barely lick my lips before my alarm bursted into life. BEEP! BEEP! I smothered my alarm, trying to find the off-switch, however the task which could be completed by a two year old, was impossible. After losing my cherry, I indignantly abandoned my sanctum of inactivity, only to find the thermometer on the door read thirty-one degrees.

Was I reading it the wrong way round? Moron went round my head like a Ferris wheel. Is Global Whining true? When did I last see snow? At this rate, we won’t have snow until the penultimate ice age. The school bell jolted into action. Our priorities were to get to lunch. To our teacher those priorities were education, education, education. I recollect her saying “no you cannot leave, not until you finish your work. ” Fortunately for me I have selective hearing and when lunch is over the horizon. I inadvertently have it.

So I unpremeditatedly walk out and head prematurely to lunch, however there was an underlying reason why I wanted to depart. The school currently had a performance of Bugsy Malone which was being screened at the Rowda McGaw theatre in Woking. Tonight was the night of the performance. So not wasting anytime I approached the School Office and beseeched for a ticket. Luckily for me, one spare ticket was available. Not wasting a moment, I purchased the indispensable ticket. The show had just finished; everyone was flooding out of the cinema swamping the innocent bystanders.

I quickly headed for the nearest exit.The outside had always aroused great merriness and this time followed suit. However being inside provides an equilibrium.  I was always a perky youngster, a lot of energy. My mum would say too much energy. As a youth I was always keen n emphasizing and expressing my exuberance. However for my mum, the sheer thought of an over eccentric kid brought her to a standstill. (Much like the UK economy) Now it was time for dinner with my family. What could go wrong? The calm complexion of the restaurant made The Surrey Pub a favourite amongst my family.

My mum had just ordered drinks and to avoid the whinges and moans of one young child. I was placed in the ball pit, being an unambulatory individual my mum thought nothing could go wrong. Her main priority now was to discuss up-to-date issues with Grandad and Grandma. However things have an inadvertent tendency to turn sour. One thing to learn is ebullient and energetic boys in ball pools equals a recipe a one star restaurant would decline. A group of older more puissant kids decided to throw something worst than the congestion charge at me; soft foam balls.

Staying calm whilst being pelted at by balls is harder than winning presidency, no matter if there snow balls or just balls in general as you have already learnt at the beginning of the chapter. Well, having been throttled by balls for the last 2 minutes whilst hiding in the corner trying to keep my vital organs left intact. I finally plucked up the courage to pick up one ball. (hallelujah – if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here writing this) I hesitantly aimed the ball at the most domineering child in the ball pit. With a brutal flex of my muscles the ball was mobile… I hit him!

I immediately did a little jiggle in my head as I had rescued and saved myself from being viscously ripped apart and exploited. Just then the other boys dropped their balls and everything went as silent as a grave. The domineering boy fell to the ground; unconscious. The other boys made use of being ambulatory and run out of the ball pool crying. This left me alone with the stupefied boy. Now if things were worse enough, the reinforcements had arrived; the parents. The parents rapidly turned their attention onto me, looking at me as if I was despicable and repugnant.

Feeling estranged, bewildered and alienated, I sunk my head into the ball pit. I had barely awakened to how defamatory this would be in the future.  BEEP! BEEP! My alarm exploded into life and shovelled the life back into my motionless body. Capital FM greeted me as my eyes become exposed to the hell of daily life. I managed to make out “school closed” and “severe weather”, how can you shut a school because of heat? How insane, now I know why private education was founded. Through the idiocies of… “Snow showers”, blurted out of the radio, snow showers?

I immediately rotated my abundant attention to the window. My eyes gleamed out of the window like radars. Everything was blanketed with white. SNOW! Instantly I invited all my friends to the field; the field would become our oyster! Trees shivered and shrivelled. Grass hung on to dear insanity however we took heaven by the hood and exuberantly put the snow into employment as ammunition. Snowballs launched with fierce velocity hit everyone from every direction providing refuelling amusement to everyone. Then the snow showers become intense; it was a new angle of attack.

Through the fence we saw the assailants, ten “chavs”, must more puissant than us came running at us. Why? Being twelve year old kids we realised that “chavs” running your general direction is basically a one-way sign pointing the opposite way. Only two-hundred metres away, we didn’t know what to make of it, was it life or death? It was decision time…

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