Early on Christmas morning, must’ve been around the late 90’s, walking home after a late night out at the barley mow, Chris n I had made it as far as bruche ave but it must’ve taken about an hour to get this far, given our state of inebriation, this wasn’t too shabby, as most of the walk had been spent crabbing sideways singing songs. At this time on a Christmas morning traffic was a rare sight and when we heard the Whine of an electric motor and the clinking of glass bottles, the both of us knew exactly what to expect coming down the road. However as the milk float passed Us the one thing I didn’t expect to see was Chris burst into life and clamber onto the back of the float and although not the quickest of vehicles, it was more than a match for my drunken attempt at a sprint, left in the wake of the speeding float I could do nothing but watch on as Chris, (bouncing around) on the back of his ride gave me a two fingered salute as the float turned right for home, leaving me with a nice cold walk home and a sense of envy at the quick thinking and bold move that saved him a good half hours walk in the freezing cold.
Typical Murph!!
A son, brother, dad and much loved friend.