I was about to leave the house last night with my bottle of pink champaigne when the door went.
Standing outside looking worried and more haggard than a sixteen year old should was My Protege. I wondered if he was now on crack like I had been and I was wary of weapons he might be carrying.
"This is for you, can I come in? It's so cold," he said reaching out a Terrence Ternt D'arby CD to me. "I know all the gays like him."
I invited him in and told him that I wasn't gay and hadn't heard of Terrence Trent D'arby but I'd give it a listen. With song titles like Let Her Down Easy I'm in no rush.
He said that he'd been trying to change his ways since our last talk and he was sorry about what he did with the book I gave him but he had to act cool infront of his mates but he was trying to find new mates to be cool with, till that day he had to walk the thin line between how to be cool and how to true.
He tried to pull a profound face and I didn't want to tell him that to be true is to be cool. That would be my final lesson but it's one he should be taught by life, not by me.
I told him to go round to see Nanny Boo Boo because him and his gang had upset her with their wild boy behaviour. He said he would, I told him I'd be calling by from time to time.
He wandered off into the night to someday lick the bowl.
