A recommendation

So this man came in, he came up to me, right up, almost in my face with the stench of old vodka and freshly smoked cigarettes and said, well I say said more shouted, demanded, yeah demanded from from.

“Can you recommend any good book?”

I looked at him, enraged at his pertinence. This vile excuse for a human being, invading my personal space and asking to steal from me the knowledge of what I consider to be a good book. His teeth, yellowed by the passing years of self abuse. His eyes giving away the secret state of his liver. This man repulsed me.

“No,” I said, “I can't recommend anything to you”

He pushed me away. This annoyed me even more. He invaded my space then pushed me away. I felt like some had broken into my house and complained about the colour of my walls.

“OK,” I said, “I have a book for ya, a real good one too.”

The man smiled, it wasn't pleasant.

“What?” he spat

“God Laughs When You Die.” I emphasised the Die. “by Michael Boatman”

“Well I ain't dead yet.”

“Well I don't hear God laughing.”

The man grumbled and wrote down what I had said. He licked the palm of his hand hand and rubbed it on the back of mine. I almost threw up. Full exaggerated movements of gagging, tongue out, retching noises and burping in his face.

He hacked up some putrid gunk found deep within his lungs. Snorting it past his naval cavity and into his mouth before spitting it out into a tissue.

“I'll see if I can get this.” He said waving the piece of paper at me.

“I hope you hate it.” I tried to smile but the Bell Palsy made me look like I'd just pulled a stroke. “Please come again.”

And with that he left the Citizens Advice Bureau and out of my life forever.

“Next”