The Chimney Sweep- One of the Best

I'm not rich, I'm not married to Tyra Banks (yet), I do not have a high flying career and I'm a fairly average guy, really.
But in one sense I am very lucky indeed.

Many people don't have anyone at all in their life who truly cares.
A person who they can always rely on, who they never have to hide things from, who they can talk to about everything.

I have three.
All of whom matter to me in a very important way.
One is my flatmate.
The other two have been my friends for ten and nine years, respectively.
The Baker and The Chimney Sweep.

We all originally met at university. Myself and The Baker lived in the same halls in the first year and we got to know eachother through potsmoking, put bluntly. We did a lot of it back then. We weren't the only ones in our little group of wasters.
But after a while, we found we were generally the ones that were still conscious after several hours, having long, in depth discussions over the causes of the Cold War.

In the Second Year, we met The Chimney Sweep, who was doing his MA, and was a couple of years older- The Baker is between both of us, because he had a gap year.
As I say, at this point there were others in the group- the 'lads', in it's widest sense, as in 'All the lads are going', was about fifteen of us.
But there cliques within cliques, and some of the fifteen hated the guts of others, whilst some sections formed tight knit circles within.

The last time I saw EVERYBODY, was at a party to celebrate one of the 'lads' going off to join the Marines.

During the third year, the 'lads' were really three interconnected groups. We all lived in separate houses. The Chimney Sweep had become part of our little group by then.
And he was a great housemate.

He has a heart of gold. This really is a guy who is one hundred percent malice free. He will do anything for you. But not much common sense.
And, most people agree, he does talk an unbelievable amount of crap. Not as in, it's not true, merely, it's just drivel for the sake of drivelling.
The Chimney Sweep will not tell you in two sentences what he can tell you in fifty.
Sometimes the only way to stop him, is to tell him to shut up.

Not much tact either. I have taken train journeys with him, where the loudness of his wittering, aided by much lager, has completely destroyed any credibility I hoped to have with other passengers.

In fact over the years, he's done a lot of pretty stupid things, because he doesn't always think things through very far. His logic can sometimes be scarily childlike.

But the intent is always there. He puts the important people in his life first. He's just the nicest guy you could hope to meet.
And I'm honoured to consider him one of my closest friends.
Like with The Baker, we've never lost contact, never gone long periods of time without spending time with eachother.

If you're wondering why I refer to him as The Chimney Sweep, the reason is, we do sometimes call him that. The story behind it is pretty lame.

He was standing up drivelling on about something, and for some unknown reason, was holding a broom.
No one quite knows why.
Someone said 'Shut up, you chimney sweep.'
That's it.

Possibly the most boring story ever of how someone acquired a nickname.

The Baker, I refer to as The Baker, because he works for a bakery.
Though not as a baker.
He's the Pilsbury Dough Boy.



The three of us were together the night the Chimney Sweep met his future wife- a year ago tomorrow- it was his birthday. Tomorrow I shall be at this year's birthday.

Her sister was with her, and I'll be honest, her sister is about as attractive as a woman can get.
Keisha Buchanan, only darker, and with long, slender, inviting limbs.



We ended up all meeting in a pub. We discovered they were from Zimbabwe. The Chimney Sweep always thanks me for this opener- even though I didn't have him in mind at the time, but we impressed initially, because I correctly guessed they were Mashona (Yes, I have done an extensive study of African women).

From that time on, their love blossomed. And the future Mrs Chimney Sweep continually aided the coming together of her sister with myself.
This was what aroused my initial suspicion.
She knew exactly what sort of person I am, The Chimney Sweep would have filled in the blanks for her.
Hardly the sort of person to encourage your sister to seduce.
To me, it screamed ulterior motive.

Or it did when I allowed blood to pump back into my brain from where these girls seemed to want my thoughts to be controlled.

The Chimney Sweep doesn't know this, but I confronted his future wife about her intentions.
I stated point blank, that the right to permanent residence at least had to be icing on the cake, were she to settle down with my mate.
I simply wanted to know which was the icing, and which the cake.

I asked her if she encouraged her sister towards me in the belief I had money. I don't.
I think at this point, she believed I was offering a deal to turn a blind eye and/or help get her sister into the country.

She didn't keep her eye on the ball here. I had her, I'm sure.
I said 'Basically, I just want to know that we're both on the same side here. Do we both want what's best?'

Now here's what she missed. The question is ambiguous.
HOW you take it, depends on what conversation, you thought you just had.

A girl with no ulterior motive, thinks the question is 'Do we both care for X in our own way?'
A girl with an ulterior motive thinks the question is 'Do we have a deal?'

The response to both questions is 'Yes'.
The mode of delivery is different.
The first question gets a comfortable smile and a handsqueeze.
The second gets a knowing eyeflash.

I know what I got.

I kept this to myself.

Then at New Year, after much excess, The Baker and Myself got to talking. I was trying to speak positively about The Chimney Sweep and his future wife moving in together.
And The Baker voiced his frank opinions on the subject.
Turned out he'd done a similar thing as I had, and got the same result.

So yes.
Both myself and The Baker are going to have to watch ourselves tomorrow. Because we're both feeling very protective right now towards our friend.
And we don't trust her an inch.
And I know damn well we're right.



She is screwing him.
And don't think I'll let it go.