Stanley Manly

Woah! Stan, eh? Stan The Man! Remember Stan? Ahh, you must remember him, everybody knows Stan. Such a great bloke, he really is. Always got an answer to any question, and the answer is: Stan!

I remember when I first met him. Oh, it must be a few years ago now. A little pub out in North London, it was. I'd been having such a rough time of things, and I remember, the first thing he said was: "it could be worse." It could be worse, eh? We must've talked for hours that night, and he didn't half cheer me up. Me and Stan talked all the way home - he only lived a few streets away back then - and he really talked some sense into me. When I got home, my housemates must've wondered what had got into me!

Saw Stan a few times after that. He'd pop round, ask me if I wanted to sink a few beers with him, soak up some of his old philosophy! Always when I needed cheering up too. I remember one thing he used to say: "never trust women," he'd say. And he was absolutely right. I never have. But I felt I could tell Stan whatever was wrong with my life, and if he didn't know what to do, he'd at least be a sympathetic ear. Dependable, was Stan.

We drifted apart, I suppose. Maybe Stan only hung around when I needed him, like some sort of guardian angel or something, and when he realised I was coping better, he just drifted off. But I still think of him, and I see him every now and again, just popping through. We never have a lot of time free now, though, so it's always a flying visit.

I'll never forget what he taught me. He's always in the back of my mind, is Stan, always giving me cues and warnings, letting me know he's right. He's always right, you know. He was a good one, was Stan.