The Mayor of Grantham

My tongue is severely bruised today. No, not that. It's because I spent most of yesterday biting it.
The chewing began in the late afternoon, a few hours after I bumped into an old pal I hadn't seen for 20 years. I was alive in those days (honestly!) and it was fun to reminisce about the hoots and jolly japes we used to get up to before my hair ran off, my stomach bulged and my enthusiasm and optimism boiled away like the morning mist in summer (Wordsworth? I shit 'im!)
My chum was always full of tales and he was no different yesterday. Since I had last seen him he had TWICE got himself in the Guinness Book of Records (or is it Guinness Book of World Records these days?) - once for being part of a team which trampolined non-stop for 14 days and again for taking part in a 300-plus mile leapfrog! It was hard to top that, although he was impressed to hear that I had, eventually, leapt from a 26ft-high bridge near where we live into a canal as a bet - at 2 in the morning! I am so proud. It was something he had always wanted to do and we had talked about in those days when we used to knock about together - like Everest, "it was there" - but we had never been drunk enough to try.
We were, as you would expect of Pither at a weekend, on licensed premises and, as the drink flowed, friends of my chum arrived to join us. They came in ones and twos and were nearly all female. We decamped to another pub and as we all got to know one another my chum said the girls and myself had a mutual "friend". That's when the tongue biting began..........it was my ex-girlfriend!
Now Pither is an loyal sort of cove. In the 30 years I have been sexually active (well, since I first had sex, let's say) I have had three long-term relationships
which account for almost all of that time, including the current Mrs Pither. My first long-term girlfriend and I are still in contact and on very good terms and although Mrs Pither and I will soon be going our separate ways we are still each others best friend. No, the "ex" in question was the middle of the three ladies and, although we somehow managed to stay together for a decade, they were the worst 10 years of my life!!
She will doubtless have her own opinion of me. My opinion of her is............how can I put this?............she was a PSYCHO, NUTJOB, INSECURE, FALSE, VIOLENTLY-JEALOUS, POISONOUS, CRUEL, UNFAITHFUL WITCH! We do not, you may be surprised to hear, still exchange Christmas cards!
The women yesterday had, it turned out, got to know my ex after we split and so had no idea that I had featured in her life.
"Oh, she's lovely, isn't she?".....BITE.
"She's so wacky.".................BITE.
"I remember her 50th birthday. We all turned up and she left after 10 minutes. She's marvellously unpredictable."......BITE.
"Her marriage is in trouble but I think that's down to her husband. She tells us horrible things about him."..........BITE.
"She just loves her Staffies." (The dogs the bloke she ran off with brought to the relationship and for which she dumped the beloved three-legged mongrel we had rescued and which she promised I could have if ever she no longer wanted him.).................................BITE.
"She's so honest." (Yeah, that's why she lied about her qualifications to get a job as a teacher.)......................BITE.

You do mellow with age. Back in those days I would have piped up with "Hang on a bit here. I'm not sure you've got the whole picture." These days, not only has so much water flowed under the proverbial, I just can't be arsed. Besides, why should I disabuse them of the vision of loveliness she purports to be. She always could act for England. Men, you will find, tend to have a slightly different view of her.
I think the tongue-biting went unnoticed. The only time I might have given it away was when blood seeped from my mouth as I smiled broadly at being told that she was now as fat as an obese walrus. Hurrah!
The oral pain has subsided today. Now it is my ex's turn. She will no doubt be chomping hard on that overactive tongue of hers when the women I met yesterday meet up with her and say "Oh, by the way, we met Reg the other day. He's lovely, isn't he?" Suffer, witch, suffer!
My ex is not only going to go to Grantham - I shall make her the fucking mayor of Grantham!