SMALL INTERLUDE FROM MY CASE

I haven’t seen knuckles since our encounter in the car park – he never had much to say anyway.

But I did see fat geezer:

During the lunch break I spotted him in a park near to the court; sitting on a bench – doing nothing much. I was sure it was him – so I thought:

Give him a bit of surrealist cognition.

I am not going to pursue a charge for the punch but I do want to disturb the idiot....freak him out a bit.

So drawing on dialogue from “HUNGER” by Knut Hamsun, which I often do in situations like this, I bound up to him, and with an entirely manic expression on my face I say:

“Hey it’s Mr Happolati from St Olaf Place.”

He looks at me bewildered.

“Wow...it is Mr Happolati….how are you after all this time? How are things with you? How are tricks? How’s life with you?”

Suddenly – he twigs – realises who it is (me-with cut eye) and starts to rise up, looking very disturbed.

So I say “Mr Happolati I see you are losing your book.”

He’s looking confused and moves away.

“Mr Happolati let’s chat…. don’t go ...it’s there on CCTV…all of it…Mr Happolati….. it’s all there….on CCTV……Mr Happolati……you are losing your book…”

By this time he’s virtually running away from me. So I run after him a little way shouting “Mr Happolati ……..Mr Happolati…your book……come back…you are losing your book.”

P Club - I know – it’s entirely weird. But that’s how I like it.

Doubt that I’ll see him again.

BACK TO OUR CASE