Saturday, 2 December 2017

#330 What's on my list to Santa?

All I want for Christmas is a new room to rent in South London.

Yesterday evening, I braved the cold to visit the grotto of a grey haired man. He had a helper on hand and I was to sit and tell him what I wanted.

I'd been offered a room in Gipsy Hill. A nice room. With a nice view. A cheap room. With one quiet housemate. For some reason though, I didn't want to take it.

It probably would have made a great early Christmas present but I was scared. Scared because moving was a big change. Risky. Irreversible. It was never going to be like East Dulwich again and I knew it. The train line bothered me too. It was right next to the house. Noise was the only reason I was moving. I'd had an idea though.

John seemed to approve. I'd met up with him and James for a couple of pints, as we always did at this time of year. I'd always respected John. He was now the only school friend I still saw in the flesh. Rob Mac appeared to have reduced his contact to Facebook Messenger only. That said, I hadn't asked him tonight as I wasn't sure how long I'd be out.

The idea I'd had was to ask the landlord if I could spend a night in the room to see if the noise bothered me. My mother had called it cheeky. Perhaps it was. Did I really want to turn into that kind of person?

However, accepting the room knowing I might not be able to sleep there would be foolish. Rejecting it knowing it might be fine also didn't feel right. I wasn't sure if I'd have the guts to ask the question but as it stood, the cheeky plan was the only one on the table.

The thing I wanted most for Christmas was there for me to take but I was going to try it first, to see if it fitted. An unusual yet practical approach.


Anonymous said...

Can’t hurt to ask. Nothing ventured nothing gained.

Dan Copping said...