David Charters: Strangers See Me As a Mate or Pal, Even a Lad
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Summary
SOME men are always ready to answer to the name Sir. You see them on the street, striding to the office with their fast-clipping black shoes polished like mirrors -- a glow from the squash court still on their brows, and a military precision in the jaunty swing of briefcases, whose brass fasteners were clipped shut on documents of an importance beyond the dreams of the lesser people, slouching and mum ping along the pavement, smelling slightly of camphor.
In the swell of every sir's breast pocket, there is a deck of business cards which he can shuffle like a showboat gambler at the meetings of the great and good. An aura of power and authority exudes from his every pore, demanding the respect of underlings. I am not one of nature's sirs. Strangers see me as a mate or a pal, even a lad, or, if you are in Glasgow, a jimmy.See the full content of this document
Extract
David Charters: Strangers See Me As a Mate or Pal, Even a Lad
"It's because you look like a tramp, " said my wife in that flattering way of hers, as she collected me from the railway station. "It's that hideous, green corduroy jacket, which you insist on wearing,...
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