Once, when I was 14, I was staying with friends on a farm.  There was a very pink, shy, young Englishman, straight out from England and agricultural college, wearing shorts and long socks, trying to fit in and really just looking awkward in neatly pressed, brand new shorts and shirt .  I found myself  sitting next to him at supper, and made rolling eyes to my friend begging for help, she just giggled..  My friend and I were offered a small glass of wine and we felt very grown up.  Not sure if it was the wine or absent-mindedness, but Butch, my friend’s lovely boxer sidled up to me under the table and I put my hand on his body and gave him a good scratch.   Suddenly there was  a snort from my friend’s father and looking at the very red embarrassed face of the Pom,  to my horror I realised I had been giving his hairy leg a good scratch thinking it was Butch.   The whole table collapsed into laughter and I wished myself a million miles away.


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