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Anyway... Dick Turpin's post about the tickets reminded me of when both my sons were going to a distant music festival. Son 1 was travelling from home and Son 2 from a friend's house, as far in the other direction.

Son 2 realised he'd left his ticket at home so I asked Son 1 to take it along and try to find Son 2. They didn't hold out much hope but they both arrived at the front entrance at the same time! So all was well.
 
I recall going to the Fortean Times Conference years and years ago. I had arranged to meet up with a couple of friends who were staying somewhere else. They gave me their phone number so that we could meet up. I didn't realise that there were two London codes.

Realising that I was going to be Billy No Mates I decided to travel by tube to Hammersmith anyway. I got off the tube and almost bumped into them coming out of the station.

A satisfying co-incidence at the FT conference.
 
Had I not been in that particular street at that particular time of day, I would never had seen him.

Over 30 years ago when I first left school, I found a job working in the Royal Mail. My official title was a postal Cadet, but in reality I was no more than a messenger boy.

Each morning at 8.30am I would be sent up to the Bank of England to deliver the previous evening press releases, (pre internet days of course) and each morning as I walked through a street called Cheapside, (which led to the BOE) I would walk past a very distinctive looking man who had a strong military bearing. He was always immaculately dressed, with a sharp pressed 3 piece suit, gleaming shoes, watch chain, and always carried a furled umbrella (whatever the weather)

Each morning as I passed this old fashioned City Gent, he would nod good Morning to me, and I would nod back. As time passed he would smile and say good morning to me, and I also would smile and wish him good morning back. As more time passed he would stop for a chat, he would ask me how my day was going, or he would talk about his wife and kids etc. small talk really. He came across as a very pleasant and decent human being.

After a year I graduated as a postal cadet to become a fully-fledged postman, with my own “walk” in Clerkenwell, so I never saw my City Gent friend again.

I still work in the City of London (but not as a postman), and on Tuesday lunchtime I had an errand which took me through Cheapside, and who did I see walking towards me.

I recognised him Immediately, and as we passed I could tell by the look on his face that he recognised me too. We both stopped and smiled at each other and spoke. He’s now in his mid-80’s and retired to Portugal 20 years ago, where he lives with his Daughter and grandchildren. He said that he hadn’t been back to London in over 10 years, and once he goes back to Portugal in a weeks’ time, it’s unlikely that he would ever do so again.

So, If I hadn’t had that errand to run at that exact moment of that Tuesday afternoon, I would never had bumped into him, and he would have remained just a distant memory of my distant past.
 
This is more of a Library Angel-type jobbie but here we go anyway.

Many years ago I read a brilliant book called 'Sleep' by Ian Oswald.

(His name may have stuck in my mind because it reminded me of owls and night time!)

I'd borrowed it from the library so didn't have it any more. A recent TV documentary about sleep reminded me of it and I wished I could read it again.

So there it was on a stall yesterday, used but in perfect nick, 50p. Thank you, Angel.
 
Over 30 years ago when I first left school, I found a job working in the Royal Mail. My official title was a postal Cadet, but in reality I was no more than a messenger boy.

.

And who would have thought you would be using the username Dick Turpin when you recounted this memory.

'Stand and deliver'.
 
And who would have thought you would be using the username Dick Turpin when you recounted this memory.

'Stand and deliver'.

Well that’s the thing INT, my name really is Dick Turpin, it’s not a username mate, and yes I had a tricky time in the job interview when I was asked my motives for wanting to work with the post.

I just bowed, doffed my tricorn hat, and gracefully strolled out of the interview room.

Can’t believe they gave me the job.

The fools
 
Well that’s the thing INT, my name really is Dick Turpin, it’s not a username mate, and yes I had a tricky time in the job interview when I was asked my motives for wanting to work with the post.

I just bowed, doffed my tricorn hat, and gracefully strolled out of the interview room.

Can’t believe they gave me the job.

The fools

It is unusual for folk to use their real name on a forum.

No offense intended.
 
Well that’s the thing INT, my name really is Dick Turpin, it’s not a username mate, and yes I had a tricky time in the job interview when I was asked my motives for wanting to work with the post.

I just bowed, doffed my tricorn hat, and gracefully strolled out of the interview room.

Can’t believe they gave me the job.

The fools
Related to the original highwayman with the name? Richard Turpin.
 
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Related to the original highwayman with the name? Richard Turpin.

Oh no vardoger, ‘‘twas only a joke. my real name is Robin Hood

My interest in Turpin lies with the fact that I now live just a few miles from where Turpin was born and raised. He would have been well known in my village and reputedly drunk in the pub that stands opposite my house.

My neighbour is a direct descendent of the Gregory’s, which was the Essex gang that Turpin joined when he started off his criminal career.

History has Turpin down as a gallant gentleman thief, but in reality he was no more than a bloodthirsty murderer.

Makes me wonder why I chose his name as my user name on this MB TBH.
 
Well that’s the thing INT, my name really is Dick Turpin, it’s not a username mate, and yes I had a tricky time in the job interview when I was asked my motives for wanting to work with the post.

I just bowed, doffed my tricorn hat, and gracefully strolled out of the interview room.

Can’t believe they gave me the job.

The fools

Did they say "Carry on"?

fc7d47136f82875f18a1560d6ef9deba.jpg
 
Well that’s the thing INT, my name really is Dick Turpin, it’s not a username mate, and yes I had a tricky time in the job interview when I was asked my motives for wanting to work with the post.

I just bowed, doffed my tricorn hat, and gracefully strolled out of the interview room.

Can’t believe they gave me the job.

The fools

I watched a BBC programme about highwaymen and discovered Dick Turpin used the alias John Palmer. I know a John Palmer and now I don't believe it's his real name!
I'm a fool and shouldn't be allowed to watch the telly
 
I watched a BBC programme about highwaymen and discovered Dick Turpin used the alias John Palmer. I know a John Palmer and now I don't believe it's his real name!
I'm a fool and shouldn't be allowed to watch the telly

Ha ha. I agree. Perhaps your mate John palmers real name is Dick Turpin. Oh. Now I’m getting confused. I’ve had way too much to drink tonight and should go to bed.
 
Were you born in Leeds or were you just visiting the Arcade ?
 
Had I not been in that particular street at that particular time of day, I would never had seen him.

Over 30 years ago when I first left school, I found a job working in the Royal Mail. My official title was a postal Cadet, but in reality I was no more than a messenger boy.

Each morning at 8.30am I would be sent up to the Bank of England to deliver the previous evening press releases, (pre internet days of course) and each morning as I walked through a street called Cheapside, (which led to the BOE) I would walk past a very distinctive looking man who had a strong military bearing. He was always immaculately dressed, with a sharp pressed 3 piece suit, gleaming shoes, watch chain, and always carried a furled umbrella (whatever the weather)

Each morning as I passed this old fashioned City Gent, he would nod good Morning to me, and I would nod back. As time passed he would smile and say good morning to me, and I also would smile and wish him good morning back. As more time passed he would stop for a chat, he would ask me how my day was going, or he would talk about his wife and kids etc. small talk really. He came across as a very pleasant and decent human being.

After a year I graduated as a postal cadet to become a fully-fledged postman, with my own “walk” in Clerkenwell, so I never saw my City Gent friend again.

I still work in the City of London (but not as a postman), and on Tuesday lunchtime I had an errand which took me through Cheapside, and who did I see walking towards me.

I recognised him Immediately, and as we passed I could tell by the look on his face that he recognised me too. We both stopped and smiled at each other and spoke. He’s now in his mid-80’s and retired to Portugal 20 years ago, where he lives with his Daughter and grandchildren. He said that he hadn’t been back to London in over 10 years, and once he goes back to Portugal in a weeks’ time, it’s unlikely that he would ever do so again.

So, If I hadn’t had that errand to run at that exact moment of that Tuesday afternoon, I would never had bumped into him, and he would have remained just a distant memory of my distant past.
This warms my heart - it's things like this that make me think that nothing is coincidence, that was meant to be and somehow things are stage managed from somewhere else - there's more at work than we realise (just my opinion of course)
 
Used to have a best mate when in junior school but after the 11 plus not only did we
go to different schools but we moved away so never saw him again, till one day I went
to the chippy were I lived and as it wasn't yet open decided to go in the pub next door
for one before they did, never been in there before, one of those pubs were no one was
ever in and you wondered how they managed to keep the lights on let alone open.
Got a pint went and sat down across from the only other bloke in there and said hiya
Dave, it was my old mate 30 odd years had passed, he did not seem at all surprised
and we chatted for about a hour till I decided I had better take the wife her tea before the
chippy shut, not seen him since now 30 years further on.
One thing seemed strange was that he gave the impression of being very sad and after
some of my experiences wounder if he was a ghost just coming back to say goodby.
 
Maybe he was sad he hadn't seen you for so long a time, and knew that it was unlikely you'd see each other again any time soon. Childhood friends are special and can't really ever be replaced, even though we might outgrow each other. They belong to a special time.
 
I had my family over on Saturday night for pre-Christmas drinks and dinner in a local village pub.

Over Dinner in the restaurant part of the pub, I was reminiscing with my elder Brother about the time as kids, our parents would take us for a 4 day Christmas mini break to Butlins.

My brother is a very big Spurs fan, and I mischievously reminded him about that time In December 1978, when Spurs got absolutely crushed 0-5 at home to local rivals Arsenal – we watched the game in the TV room at Butlins as there were no TV’s in the Chalets back then :)

A moment later I got up from the table to use the gents, as I walked past a group of guys in the bar area, I heard one of them say to the group “ lads do you remember near Christmas years ago, when spurs took a complete pasting at home against Arsenal – can anyone remember what year that was?”

I straight away thought, well that’s one for the forum as there was no possible way they could have heard our conversation from where they were standing in the bar

Not a coincidence but a bit later on that evening, something very strange happened.

We were in the bar area of the pub, I was standing at the bar chatting to my Farther and two brothers, when I heard the sound of a glass smash then a little scream. I turned around and saw that my wife’s ( who was sitting at a table with my Mother, sister in law and niece) glass of Gin and Tonic lay in pieces on the table.

She had a confused look on her face, as she said she hadn’t touched the glass , and my niece stated that she saw the glass rise very slightly on its own accord before tipping itself over.
 
She had a confused look on her face, as she said she hadn’t touched the glass , and my niece stated that she saw the glass rise very slightly on its own accord before tipping itself over.

When the glass smashed, did people say "Look at that, oh look at that!!!???"


 
... We were in the bar area of the pub, I was standing at the bar chatting to my Farther and two brothers, when I heard the sound of a glass smash then a little scream. I turned around and saw that my wife’s ( who was sitting at a table with my Mother, sister in law and niece) glass of Gin and Tonic lay in pieces on the table.

She had a confused look on her face, as she said she hadn’t touched the glass , and my niece stated that she saw the glass rise very slightly on its own accord before tipping itself over.

Are you saying the glass tipped over on the table top with enough force to shatter it (the glass)?

(I'm having some cognitive dissonance in reconciling a tip-over and the glass being in pieces without having fallen to the floor.)
 
(I'm having some cognitive dissonance in reconciling a tip-over and the glass being in pieces without having fallen to the floor.)
If the glass is heavy enough and has enough liquid in it, just the act of falling over could smash it. It's happened to me.
 
I had my family over on Saturday night for pre-Christmas drinks and dinner in a local village pub.

Over Dinner in the restaurant part of the pub, I was reminiscing with my elder Brother about the time as kids, our parents would take us for a 4 day Christmas mini break to Butlins.

My brother is a very big Spurs fan, and I mischievously reminded him about that time In December 1978, when Spurs got absolutely crushed 0-5 at home to local rivals Arsenal – we watched the game in the TV room at Butlins as there were no TV’s in the Chalets back then :)

A moment later I got up from the table to use the gents, as I walked past a group of guys in the bar area, I heard one of them say to the group “ lads do you remember near Christmas years ago, when spurs took a complete pasting at home against Arsenal – can anyone remember what year that was?”

I straight away thought, well that’s one for the forum as there was no possible way they could have heard our conversation from where they were standing in the bar

Not a coincidence but a bit later on that evening, something very strange happened.

We were in the bar area of the pub, I was standing at the bar chatting to my Farther and two brothers, when I heard the sound of a glass smash then a little scream. I turned around and saw that my wife’s ( who was sitting at a table with my Mother, sister in law and niece) glass of Gin and Tonic lay in pieces on the table.

She had a confused look on her face, as she said she hadn’t touched the glass , and my niece stated that she saw the glass rise very slightly on its own accord before tipping itself over.

I was actually at that match as I was an Arsenal fan at the time. It was a total thrashing & got a bit hairy at the end - the hardcore Tottenham supporters left before the end & were waiting outside to fight the hardcore Arse. There were running battles down the high road. Being non-hardcore I managed to avoid the aggro.

Arsenal supporters had a song celebrating the occasion which they sung for months, maybe years, after:

We won 5 nil
We won 5 nil
We won 5 nil at the Lane

Sung to the tune of 'Sailing' by Rod Stewart

Good story.
 
Are you saying the glass tipped over on the table top with enough force to shatter it (the glass)?

(I'm having some cognitive dissonance in reconciling a tip-over and the glass being in pieces without having fallen to the floor.)

Hi Enola.

The glass was a modern Gin glass, not sure if you have them in the states, but it’s a large glass bowl with a stem and a base – a bit like a very large wine glass.

The stem had broken away from the base, and the top of the glass was broken with a large triangle shape. It was not shattered.

I asked the wife again about it last night. She has no particular fortean interest, but she found the experience quite weird.
 
I was actually at that match as I was an Arsenal fan at the time. It was a total thrashing & got a bit hairy at the end - the hardcore Tottenham supporters left before the end & were waiting outside to fight the hardcore Arse. There were running battles down the high road. Being non-hardcore I managed to avoid the aggro.

Arsenal supporters had a song celebrating the occasion which they sung for months, maybe years, after:

We won 5 nil
We won 5 nil
We won 5 nil at the Lane

Sung to the tune of 'Sailing' by Rod Stewart

Good story.

My family were still talking about it 10 years later Hunck, my Dad and eldest brother being mad Spurs fans and my Mother and her side being mad Arsenal fans.

Made for some interesting arguments over Sunday lunch in my household years ago – my other Brother being West Ham and me being Leyton Orient (plain Orient back then) kept well out of it.

Brady signed for West Ham back in the late 80’s, and scored a similar goal at Upton Park against Arsenal if I remember rightly.
 
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