A True Story

I just finished reading this story at twitter. I t is amazing. source: sixthformpoet

ONE

My dad died. Classical start to a funny story. He was buried in a small village in Sussex. I was really close to my dad so I visited his grave a lot. I still do. [DON’T WORRY IT GETS FUNNIER.] 
I always took flowers and my mum visited it a lot and she always took flowers and my grandparents were still alive then, and they always took flowers. My dad’s grave frequently resembled a solid third place at the Chelsea flower show.

Nice but I felt bad for the guy buried next to my dad. He never had flowers. Died on Christmas Day age 37. No one left him flowers and now there’s a pop-up florist in the Grave next door. So I started buying him flowers. I started buying flowers for a deceased man I’d never met. 
I did this for quite some time but I never mentioned it to anyone. It was a little private joke with myself. I was making the world a better place one bunch of flower at a time. I know it sounds weird but I came to think of as a friend. I wondered if there was a hidden connection between us. Something secretly driving me to him, maybe we went to the same school or play for the same football club or whatever. so I googled his name and 10 seconds later I found him: his wife didn’t leave him flowers because he’d murdered her on Christmas Day, after he murdered his wife he murdered her parents too, and after that he jumped in front of the only train going through Balcombe tunnel that Christmas night. 
That was why no one ever left him flowers. No one except me, of course. I left him flowers. I left him flowers every couple of week for two-and-a-half years. I felt terrible for his wife and her parents now, and I wasn’t going to leave him flowers every couple of weeks for two-and-a-half years but I did feel like I owe them some sort of apology. I found out where they were buried, bought flowers and drove to the cemetery. As I was standing in the grave mumbling apologies. A woman appeared behind me. She wanted to know who I was and why I was and why I was leaving flowers for her aunt and grandparents. [AWKWARD!] 
I explained and she said “ok! That’s weird but quiet sweet”. I said “thanks, so yes it is a bit weird and oh God! I asked her out for a drink. Incredibly, he said yes. Two years later, she said yes again, when I asked her to marry me because that’s how I met my wife 

TWO

We had two children and last year they said they wanted to go to Disneyland. We saved up and booked it. Rather than say, “sure you want to go to Disneyland, let’s go to Disneyland!” we decided to make them earn it. I told them they needed to raise £3,000. Every time they did something good I would add £10, every time they were naughty I take £10 away. £3,000 and we’d go to Disneyland immediately. So if they did 10 good things a day without being naughty, they could go in a month, easy. Suddenly they were perfect children. I got home from work and they’d be all “how was your day? Can we take your coat?” and I’d say “this is nice, oh right, wait I get it, sure add 10 pounds”, and then they went “is that all? we said hi, took your coat? And I answered “sure, ok add £60. the day before we were due to go they were on £2,950. we were playing Frisbee in the park and it landed next to a homeless guy. we went over and said hello. his name was John and he was an artist and he did a very amusing Kermit the frog impression. Walking home it became clear my children had never seen a homeless person before. they wanted to know why he has so much stuff. I said, “he was living there”, and they said “but what about his house and where does he wash and what about his job?” I tried to explain homelessness, and they were like if it doesn’t have any money you should just give him some. [CHRIST] I said “money doesn’t grow on trees and all this spare cash we have is taking us Disneyland”. [YOU CAN SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING]. we got home and they said “they had an announcement to make like they were calling a press conference”. They didn’t want to spend that £2,950 on Disneyland. They wanted to pay for that go to have somewhere to leave. [FUCKING HELL KIDS WE’RE GOING IN THE MORNING]. I was like “ok, look it’s really complicated issue and we don’t even know him and honestly it is lovely I’m so proud of you but seriously go to bed we’ve got an early start. but they were adamant 
I went back, told him the story, and said, “Look I can’t cancel Disneyland and I don’t have another three grand lying around but we can pay for you to stay in hostel for a bit”. He cried and said “no”. I cried and said, “Seriously, they’ll never forgive me”. He said, “ok thank you” and I drove him to a hostel and booked him. We stayed in touch and he came round for Christmas day. Bless him he brought a cuddly Mickey and Minnie Mouse with him. lovely Merry Christmas. 

THREE

I lived next door to a couple called Lucy and Tim. they were both lovely but very different to one another. He was a Gregorian getting here and drink-champagne-with-me type, she was far more reserved. 
2 years ago completely out of blue Tim died. I went round with some flowers and a card, and said, “Look I don’t want to intrude; I just want you to know that we are here if you need us”. I gave her my number she didn’t use it. Not for the first 18 months anyway. 
Last Christmas we had a million people round for dinner, and it was early evening and everyone was a bit drunk. The phone rang-Lucy! She said, “I have tried to kill myself [FUCK]. I said, “Ok I’m coming over, can you let me in? She said, “No I’ve taken pills I can’t move but the kitchen door is open”. I get someone to call an ambulance and went outside to climb over the fence, in my shorts and t-shirt in Christmas night. It was freezing and starting to rain but anyway. I climbed over the fence, slipped got, covered in mud grazed my legs but anyway. I went to the kitchen door and let myself in. she was sitting in an armchair with a vacant expression and said, “Matt am I going to die?” I said, “I have no idea but what exactly have you done? “Piles” she said. Pills and Gin. I said, “OK how many pills? Honest to God she said four. I went “four is that all?” (I mean in my clothes were a mess) how many Gins? She said, “Two large ones”. “Are you kidding me?” she said, “I’m not going to die, am I?” I said, “You probably won’t even have a hangover, you clown” there was a knock at the door-The paramedic. He asked “How many pills she’s had?” she looks at me, arched a brow and said, “12 pills”. A LIE. The paramedic asked, “How many Gins?” and again Lucy look at me first, arched a brow and lies through her teeth. “12 jeans
”, she says. CHRIST. The paramedic caught on and Lucy confessed. It was agreed she would probably survive four ibuprofen and a couple of Gins. The paramedics said she could come with me. I took her to my house and introduced her to everyone including John. Our homeless friend from Port two, remember? they got along famously and to cut long short story, they just got engaged next year. They’ll get married in the exact same village in which this story began.
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