Life is a pigsty, and if you don’t know this, then what do you know?
I was just 18 when I first left home. I bought myself a slightly neglected bungalow. (In England a bungalow is a single-story dwelling, (it helps when your first job is being a banker)). Hallway, reception room, 2 bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen ~ and every room needed redecorating. The kitchen especially looked like something from the WWII era. In fact the kitchen looked like WWII had been fought in there.
There was central heating that didn’t work, and an Edison-vintage electrical system that did, although technically the lights were so dim they were darks. I had my clothes, two pieces of furniture that I stole from my folk’s place, (a beach chair and a mattress), my music, a tin plate and some cutlery.
The bungalow was close enough to the bank that I could walk in about 45 minutes. I sold my sports car, an Austin-Healey Sprite, bought a Reliant Robin three-wheeler van, and tried to work out what else I needed to buy with my sudden small stash of cash.
With cash burning a hole in your pocket there is always the temptation to buy things that will give you instant gratification, more records for example….. Well I gave in to a little of that and got myself a TV. The rest of the stuff I bought was more practical; a washer / dryer, some tools, an oven, bed linen, brushes and paint, cleaning cloths….. stuff like that.
Ripping out the entire kitchen was messy but satisfying ~ and the little van was useful for taking all the wreckage to the city dump. That thing did hundreds of miles on a teaspoon of petrol, (gas), and all the time I had it I never even opened the hood ~ of course eventually the poor thing fell apart. Later I learned about car mechanics, regular maintenance, giving love, care, and attention to everyone and everything in my life.
My life was pretty good until I had almost finished my professional examinations ~ then I experimented with dating. My first girl was older, curvy, blonde, great legs, and before I knew where I was she was leaving her stuff at my place and taking over. That first time living alone taught me three great lessons;
- Don’t spend money you haven’t got.
- Nobody is allowed into my place.
- Do everything for yourself.
As well as building a new kitchen I made all the furniture for that place. I still have some of it; decades later.
Some say you should never wrestle with an amoral woman. And, that if you do, you will get dirty. All I know is that she will like it.
one of the worst cars in the world