THE TIP

When he was 65, my old man retired from the Gas Work's as a fitter, & after 30 years service he received seven & sixpence a week pension. To help out his income, he got a job in a Museum Canteen, washing up. After a couple of years, he slipped on a wet floor & was taken to hospital with a broken femur. He spent quite a while in hospital, so when he came out, I had mum & dad over to my place.

My old man was very keen on horse racing & he would often have sixpence each way on his favourite horse (although betting at that time was illegal). At his local, all his mates would ask for his horse racing tips. Anyway to make a short story long, I decided to take him & mum out to Newmarket because he had never been there. Mum, Dad, my wife & two children all jumped into my Chinese Taxi Cab (Cowley) & away we went.

As lunchtime approached, we stopped at a lovely little restaurant at 'Six Mile Bottom'. We all had an excellent meal & it cost two pounds ten shillings, so I left a half crown tip on the table. In the car park, I had opened the car doors, & the old man came hobbling up to me on his stick, shouting, 'Here boy, take this'. I told him not to be silly as I could well afford to pay for the meal & I didn't want his contribution. He was insistent that I take it & he dropped a half crown in my hand, at the same time saying, 'You haven't got money like that to leave on the table, put it in your pocket'. He had decided that I shouldn't leave the waitress a tip & had picked it up from under my plate. Was my face red?

With great haste I left the restaurant, & we hadn't travelled more than five miles down the road, when my mum shouted, 'Oh dear, I've left my gloves on the table, now we must go back'.