hebeam,withateobebarrel-shaped.Doyouknowtheactive,heartykindoffatmahletigtypethat’sniamedFattyorTubbyandisalwaysthelifeandsouloftheparty?I’mthattype.‘Fatty’theymostlycallme.FattyBowling.GeeBowlingismyrealname.

    ButatthatmomentIdidn’tfeellikethelifeandsouloftheparty.AnditstruckmethatnowadaysInearlyalwaysdohaveamorosekindoffeelingintheearlyms,althoughIsleepwellandmydigestion’sgood.Iknewwhatitwas,ofcourse—itwasthosebloodyfalseteeth.Thethingsweremaghewateriumbler,andtheyweregrinningatmeliketheteethinaskull.Itgivesyouarottenfeelingtohaveyumsmeet,asortofpinched-up,witheredfeelinglikewhenyou’vebittenintoasourapple.Besides,saywhatyouwill,falseteetharealandmark.Whenyourlastnaturaltoothgoes,thetimewhenyoukidyourselfthatyou’reaHollywoodsheik,isdefianend.AndIwasfataswellasforty-five.AsIstooduptosoapmycrutchIhadalookatmyfigure.It’sallrotaboutfatmenbeinguoseetheirfeet,butit’safactthatwhenIstanduprightIlyseethefronthalvesofmine.Nowoman,IthoughtasIworkedthesoaproundmybelly,willeverlooktwiceatmeagain,unlessshe’spaidto.NotthatatthatmomentIparticularlywantedanywomantolooktwiceatme.

    ButitstruckmethatthismtherewerereasonswhyIoughttohavebeeniermood.TobeginwithIwasn’twtoday.Theoldcar,inwhichI‘cover’mydistrict(IoughttotellyouthatI’mintheinsurancebusiheFlyingSalamander.Life,fire,burglary,twins,shipwreck—everything),wastemporarilyindodthoughI’dgottolookinattheLondonofficetodropsomepapers,Iwasreallytakingthedayofftogoaewfalseteeth.Andbesides,therewasanotherbusihathadbeeninandoutofmymindfor