Devonne Brown

“Marianne, fun stuff comes with a certain age.” Sarcasm dripped. “ Pain comes out of nowhere, it leaves one disgusted and usually debilitated in some sense of the word.”

 Her thumb was out of commission for a weekend once. She couldn’t use her left hand, gratefully, She was right handed, but it made typing a bitch, she was a paralegal, and her boss was annoyed. This time it was her  knee. 

From nowhere, excruciating pain emanated from her knee when she swung it over the bed. It didn’t hurt if she moved it sideways until she walked after that. Moving it forward she couldn’t put any on it weight, which is considerable.. Thank God she inherited her Mom’s canes when she died. She kept them in a big crock behind the British Porta Potty in the living room, with the epee’s that once fought for first place in the Olympics. The British never won any world cup, Olympics, or important sporting events. It was a storm of unfortunate events, especially in football, Americans called it soccer, Europeans called it a joke.

After she moved to England with her then boyfriend, fiance, or whatever he thought he was, he took his girlfriend, Marianne, to get gas at a petrol station. The football field was across the road behind the car park. She couldn’t hear traffic or horns, all she heard was, “The ref’s a bleeding wanker,” over and over again.

Her first day in London, which was the Coca Cola Cup…another soccer match, she’d never been to anything of the “biggest in the world ever” that day, and she got to be a part ot three biggest things in the world, the Coca Cola Cup and the biggest pot rally in the world, and that day, London was the biggest city in the world.

 They were lucky to get on a red double decker bus. Not one soul was smoking weed on that bus.  They disembarked and still didn’t get hooked up with a couple of joints in the march. Pot rallies would be more fun with buzz.

Two acquaintances quipped team Cola was going to trounce team Maryjane, both teams needed  bleeding wankers,  the sarcasm made me laugh.

At least most of the England team was magnanimous enough to accept taking the mick from the Irish, and there was hooliganism, mild hooliganism.