Written & Published to raise funds for the UK’s FIRE FIGHTERS’ CHARITY.
‘Mean, moody and magnificent’ – my mate, Dave, was none of these things when dressed in a firefighter’s uniform, as, in fact, he always felt extremely self-conscious that he looked rather ridiculous in it! But, at five foot seven and built like a rock-solid Roman Foot Soldier guarding Hadrian’s Wall – rather than a sylph-like Adonis on a pride-of-place plinth outside a Greek temple – what else would you expect? Frankly, and being totally honest, try as he might, my mate, Dave, was the type of ‘friendly, smiling fireman’ who couldn’t pull a ligament – let alone a decent looking bird! Here was a man who would spend hundreds of pounds on the most expensive aftershaves from Covent Garden, but still walk around as if he had been dipped in female repellent!
It was rumoured (and only rumoured!) on station that he claimed he’d dated a Miss UK candidate as a younger man, but that it had all ended in tears when she did the dirty on him. Of course, none of us believed him – except the latter part which, most agreed, would not have been surprising because Dave was just too nice and always saw the best in everyone! Polite, pleasant, well-mannered and a self-effacing sort of chap, Dave was sporting, too, and, at face value, seemed to possess all the traits to which one might think the opposite sex would be attracted. Not a bit of it, in Dave’s case, however, as both Red and Blue Watch agreed that if he’d bought shares in a Funeral Directors then people would suddenly stop dying!