On the beach in Benidorm, a chap from Joe Loss' s Band, Russ Somebody, said to me, "What are you doing this afternoon?"
"Bullfighting, I'm going in the ring," I replied
."You're kidding", he said
."No, I'm not", I answered.
That afternoon there we were at the bullring. The bulls were about the same age as the ones I'd seen used for bullfights in San Sebastian by the professional bullfighters.
What I didn't know was that bandarillos were stuck into these animals at Benidorm, and then taken out again before they entered the ring. A volunteer went into the ring. The bull was released. As it neared this chap, its head went down, then up again. The poor chap turned to make a run for it. He wore a sloppy Joe pullover. As the bulls head came up, It's horns went up the fellows pullover, and the poor bloke couldn't go forward. His face went as white as a sheet, and his pullover split in half.
Going across the Indian Ocean, a wrest
ling match between the soldiers was arranged on "B" Deck. Two blokes had a go. After a few scuffles, they left the ring. " Next two," called the officer in charge.No one moved.
The officer, two stone at least heavier than my ten stone, looked around the assembly. "You", he said, "in the ring".
I was the skinniest one there but what the bully boy officer didn’t know, was that I wasn’t the weakest.
I stepped into the circle of soldiers sitting on the deck.
He was already rushing at me as I turned round to face him. I stood my ground. He put a hand on each shoulder. I stood my ground. I grabbed the front of his shirt, dropped to the deck, put my slippered feet into his midriff and shot him over my head.
We got up, I stood there ready for him, but he shook himself and remarked to the cheering group.
"That’s the way to do it, now lets have the next two."
I met this girl on a moonlight night in the blackout. She was really stunning. I arranged to call at her house next day. In the meantime, I thought "Ray " sounded more like the name she would go for than my own.
Next day, I knocked on her door, then stood by the gate, looking down the street. A few seconds later, I heard a voice say," Come in Ray."
Funny name for a dog, I thought, thinking it was next door calling in their dog.
"Come on Ray, come in."
I took no notice.
"Ray, come in!"
Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was Ray.
"Sorry," I said, "I was concentrating."
I entered the house and went into the living room or lounge, as they say today.
A humpty backed girl with straight hair an d thick pebble glasses said, "Hello Ray, this is..." and she introduced me to her younger brother and sister.
"Where's what's her name?" I asked, "The girl I met last night."
"That's me," she said, "Don't you recognise me?"
"Sorry," I said, " but people look a bit different in the light. I recognise you now though."
Well, I mean what else could I say - we started playing a game of lexicon.
I said "I shouldn't have come round really, a relation called just as I was coming out, and he came especially to see me. But I don't like letting people down, so I thought the best thing to do would be to pop round here, stay at least a couple hours, that way I wouldn't be letting you down. Then I'll go back home and stay with my cousin, who I haven't seen for ages.
"O.K.?"
"All right," she said, and that was that.
I was doing a bit of door to door selling to gain experience. I knocked on this posh house. An elegant lady, tall, and dressed in a beautiful black velvet gown.
She let me demonstrate all my gear, and when I had finished, she said, "Thank you very much for you very expert demonstration, but I don't require anything today."
"That's Üall right Madam," I said. I put my brushes etc. in my case, took hold of my broom and mop, turned round and started to walk away.
"Excuse me," she called out.
"Yes?", I said, turning round.
"That! That there, is it yours?"
"What?"
"That," she said, pointing to the door mat.
"D'you mean the mat?" I asked
"No! That there!" she exclaimed, still pointing.
I couldn't understand why she couldn't give whatever it was, a name.
I saw nothing on the mat whatsoever. Well, not unless you call a piece of wool the size of a pins head, something.
As there was nothing else on the carpet but that speck of wool, and partly to be awkward under the circumstances, I said pointing to the wool,
"Do you mean that, that piece of wool?"
"Yes," she said seemingly satisfied.
"Strewth", I remarked. "What would I have done without it."
I picked it up, made out to stick it on my mop, said, "Thank you very much, and walked down the drive.