Good Time Party Guy

My coffee cup was empty and I was looking out the Starbucks window at the people rushing by and I was hit by the thought, "Who will come to my funeral?"

When you sit down and think about it there is no guarantee anyone would come. I have no family to speak of - no wife or kids forced to say nice things and mourn my passing and no aunts or uncles or cousins obliged to dress in black and eat the canapes and conduct polite conversation.

My friends are acquaintances - of my own doing really - but I like my own company and there is no point forming a bond which interferes with the status quo. Don't get me wrong - I'm not a loner by any sense - I live in a 24 hour city and I make use of every avenue that advertises a good time - my acquaintances are many and my arrival is always acknowledged with a drink at the bar and it invariably marks the start of the party. I'm the guy with the money - I'm the good time party guy.

But today I have my mobile in my hand and I am scrolling through the numbers.

Maybe - I think - just maybe.

So I start at "A" - for Anna.

"It's me ... No, no, don't hang up, I just wanted to ask you a question ... well, more of an invitation really - you're under no obligation - I'm not trying to force you ... but ... would you like to come to my funeral?"