"I'm Michael. I'm introducing myself because, to my memory, we have never met before. However, I see that you have met the old Michael, and I am sorry...he, or I, as the case may be, was a total jerk. The incident with the firecracker was inexcusable." So! You do remember!" she accused."No. YOU remember," I shot back. "I simply read your memory. By the way, who is Keith Williamson? And does he really have a Partridge Family poster in his bedroom?" KEITH WILLIAMSON!" You were in Keith Williamson's. Our local heroes were to face Bournemouth away, quite a long way to the South-West. Usually, I never take the trips, you spend most of your day sweating away in some sticky bus, together with a bunch of hooligans and only few decent chaps. Anyway, today was special, I had just recently moved back to the UK after I got a new job and didn't know many people, apart from L. and his family and it was the first weekend after I had somewhat settled in, not having to unpack boxes or drive around buying. More

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