Bogri's New Boots
They're the best pair of boots I've ever seen
With summer wearing on I found my boots suffering, particularly on feet down power slides. So by saving on my poker winnings and giving a sorry tale at the social security office I scraped together enough bread for a new pair of boots. Down at Motor Cycle Apparel Pete Wine sorted me out a pair from the back of the shop that they had in stock for years. Bright yellow with blue fringe specially made for some cowboy who never returned for them. As no-one else with size eleven feet seemed to want them Pete was willing to give me a good deal. "The deposit was paid and we need the storage space. Tell you what I'll do, Bogri my boy, I'll let you have them for a tenner". With the fringes cut off and some used 20/50 rubbed in the leather they would not look out of place, and they were stitched together when cows could afford to wear real leather. "Done". I agreed "Don't wrap 'em, I'll wear them." I said, kicking off the remains of my old boots. For some reason the rest of Pete's customers left.
Outside was the usual traffic reichwarden looking over the Vinny for a cool bit to put his plastic envelope on. "My word, Bogri" he exclaimed, "What a fine pair of boots you've got there."
Same thing at the local.
"Morning Hilda. Pint of the usual."
"Morning Bogri. Where did you get them fabulous boots?"
"Someone I ran over."
When Malcolm came in for his lunch break he couldn't leave me alone. "I'll buy them off you Bogri - give you twice what you paid!"
"Leave off Malcolm. You'd have to cut armholes in them."
"I could spray me moped up to match. They're the best pair of boots I've ever seen."
Was the same all day. The blokes at the employment exchange thought they were magic.
That evening I called round on Judy (whose husband works night shift). I hoped the boots would add some new zest to a rapidly failing relationship but she didn't give them a glance. Crestfallen but not beaten I stripped off to me boots and stood in front of the telly.
"Don't you notice anything?" I asked.
Same as usual," she sneered, "brewer's droop."
"Yes," I replied, "but it's pointing at my new boots!"
She was not impressed.
"Come back Bogri when you buy a new crash helmet."
Later in bed I began to think the night was going to be a complete failure. Judy remained completely unmoved despite all I could do. Then suddenly she changed. Up came her legs and arms and we thrashed about like the old days.
"You're getting the message again aren't you." I gasped.
"Am I hell." she replied. "I'm trying on your new boots."