The Best of Luck

It has been a sad week. “Street legend” Horace has died. He was 54 years old. I have known Horace for at least 25 years. In his younger days he would stand in the High Road and holler obsenities at the top of his voice to the passers by. This was interspersed with, “The Best of Luck!!” He was adorable. During the summer he would sit on the pavement outside McDonalds, dressed in a large dufflecoat, surrounded by bags and his suitcase, drawing child-like pictures with his big box of crayons. Occasionally I would invite him to have lunch with me and Lurky and he’d sit and smile across the table at us. Horace was described in the local paper as ‘part of the furniture’. He will be sadly missed. As Horace got older he didn’t have the energy to shout obsenities at the passers by and so he recorded it on an old fashioned tape player and you could hear it belting down the road, always made me laugh, ‘You fucking cunt … you fucking cunt … fuck off you cunt!’ There is expected to be a huge turnout at his funeral next week, the cemetery has requested that people walk or use public transport. His Facebook fan page – which I am sure he had no idea existed – is requesting that a bench be erected in his name, a fitting tribute to a man loved by his community.


2 responses to this post.

  1. He was a lovely harmless character and will be missed in Finchley


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