Hello Mrs Windsor, or Queenie to her Friends

Hello Mrs Windsor, or Queenie to her Friends ©

By Michael Casey

Well as promised or threatened here’s the new piece, about names and nicknames. Tramp, Slut, Teacher, Baldie, Loonie, Curlie. These are just a few nick names I’ve heard of. My small daughter says that she and her friends use such titles all the time, so when their actual name is used it feels strange. Only a teacher calls you by your given name. Somebody tried to call me Mike, which I detest, only strangers dare to call me that, so I wore a dicky-bow in the office for a day in the office 40 years ago. So, Michael was used thereafter. At the Hotel there were loads of Michael’s so I was called Mr Casey, my ESOL students years later called me Mr Michael. No, I’m not stuck up, it’s my name so use it. If you are in bed with me, then you can call me anything, such as move over fattie and share the blanket.

Now how do I know the Queen, or Mrs Windsor, well I’m not going to call anybody Majesty. I’ll nod my head as hello to any Tom, Dick or even Harry, but bowing, you kiss my A*** first. So Mrs Windsor fell off her horse, and could have been badly injured, but she landed on something soft. She landed on my belly, and bounced back into the air before I caught her. I had been sunbathing in the municipal park, just past the swings, and Mrs Windsor had come trotting past on her horse. I spilt my dinner everywhere, as I picked up the coins I noticed the resemblance. Especially on the 50p, her best image is there, so go look for yourself. Yes, it’s me she said, like an excited Joyce Grenfell. So, I gave her a bunk up back on her horse and away she went. So that’s how I know Queenie. I got some left over Maundy Money as a thank you in the post, but the local shop refused take it, said it looked fake al in a presentation case, especially with the love Queenie scrawled over the bottom. So I kept it, the next week a load of horse manure arrived, from the horse, now Trigger really does know how to give something useful. My roses are really good now.

But where was I, Mrs Windsor let me get on with the story, she’s doing a bit of vacuuming for me over in the corner, as she was disappointed that the Maundy Money didn’t work down the corner shop. So as Queenie vacuums let me carry on. A nick name denotes friendship or kinship, or it highlights a skill. We had a guy called Flash, not because he was quick but others unkindly thought of him as being slow, especially Rich, who I remember had to change his name when an angry boyfriend came after him, but that’s 30 years ago. Flash nearly did go up in a flash, he fell asleep on the toilet while having a fag and set fire to his trousers, the joys of night shifts. I was just the boring one who did all the work, but I remember stuff, so that’s why you are getting it now.

There was another guy who had a 2^nd name, we only found out later, and that’s always suspicious. I’m Collin, but others know me as Tony, what? It’s like the with due respect junk emails from X  but email me at Y. MORONS. Curly is obvious because you have curls, though one guy always used a straightener, we thought he was a girl until he explained. Though Curly in The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is a friend of the illegal pirate radio station operator, there curly was bald guy, where the idea came from the then illegal PCRL, now 30 plus years later they are legal. I bored a nice black lady I met at the QE hospital about this as I queued for my surgeon. No operation on my bypass scar hernia, as it’s in the wrong place for surgery by the way.

I have a Tiny, stop I can see you all racing to your own punch line there. I have a Tiny in a story, Malta Nights I think I called it, anyway Tiny is big, it’s a good story too that could end up in Tears for a Butcher if ever I write that sequel. That’ll only happen if I get a Korean Kpop star come and type it for me, as I dictate from the sofa behind. But Yoona has got better things to do, so you’ll all be spared. A full novel takes a lot of energy, and a year to finish, that’s why you get short stories. I’ll probably die first, so you’ll never know what happened the very next day, as written 30 plus years later.

I could carry on but you can watch the Carry On films online, though the pendulum of taste has swung so far. Go read Shoplife my own play, that’s still very funny and so true to life, they read it all over the world. And with that I’m going to finish as Online Mass beckons, God has a nickname for me, Worm Crawling in the Dirt.