Ignoring the Inner Glory



“What are you up to Nick,” the stranger asked as he stopped next to me outside Easons in Shop Street. I was leaning against the wall, relaxing, taking in one of the many buskers to be found here. The busker was pretty good and it was a nice sunny day. “What are you up to Nick?” says he with a smile. Don’t ask me how he knew my name but he did. “I’m ignoring my Inner Glory,” I answered, as quick as a flash, “I’m ignoring my inner greatness. Pretending it isn’t there. It’s kind of like my hobby, you could say. Everyone has to have a hobby and that’s mine. I work as hard as ever I can at ignoring my inner greatness and then – when I’m done – I ignore it some more!”  “I really do work very hard at it.” I added as a kind of afterthought. I couldn’t keep the note of pride out of my voice.


“And how’s that working out for you,” inquired my new friend, with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m getting on fine,” I answered proudly with a bit of a strut in my step and a quiver in my nostrils, “I am leading a dull and pointless life and there’s no prospects of anything ever changing. I’m leading this shoddy excuse of a life and I’m going nowhere fast. I’m going to hell in a hand-cart. My thoughts are universally tedious and banal and I’m forever mouthing off inane pointless bullshit that no one in their right mind would ever want to listen to. That’s what you get for ignoring the Inner Glory you see. It works every time…”


“Well now that’s splendid Nick,” declared my friend delightedly, beaming from ear to ear, “You’re playing a blinder and no mistake. You’re doing great. Fair play to you. But do you never think that you might get fed up with this hobby of yours and try something different instead?”


“Why would I?” I replied indignantly, feeling my hackles rising, “when everything’s going so well. I don’t believe in spoiling a good thing. If it isn’t broken then don’t fix it, I always say…”


“You’re so right Nick,” says your man, nodding approvingly, “You’re nobody’s fool and that’s a fact. No one’s going to take you for an ejit that’s for sure. I can see that. They’d have to get up very early in the morning to get the better of you.”


“That’s right,” says I, “they surely would! Bloody right they would. No one’s going to take me for a fool. Damn straight they’re not…”








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