Bachelor

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When Harry was about eight he decided that, when he grew up, he wanted to be a bachelor. He did not tell anyone at first, mainly because he did not know exactly what a bachelor was, or did. He did know, however, that it was something fun.

Dad always said: ”Lucky Uncle Geoff, having all the fun in the world. What do you expect? He’s a bachelor!”
Harry’s dad worked in a big office where he spent most of his time in front of a computer “being bored shitless”, so he was obviously not a bachelor. Harry often wondered how you became one, or what kind of job it was. In any case Uncle Geoff laughed a lot more than Dad did, so he must enjoy it.

“Do you like being a bachelor?” he once asked Uncle Geoff.

His uncle laughed. “Sure do, kiddo, he said. I can recommend it.”

“But what do you do?” Harry asked timidly.

“Well,” said Uncle Geoff and winked at him “you know, play the field, have a laugh, do what I like.”

Harry nodded. It sounded good. He sometimes played the field himself on Saturday morning at soccer and it sure was good fun. And the laughing bit and doing what you liked was pretty cool too. But did you have to go to some kind of school to become a bachelor? He did not want to ask Uncle Geoff again and decided to keep his ambitions a secret for the time being. The boys at school all wanted to be policemen or firemen, apart from his best friend Martin who could not make up his mind between wanting to be a spy or working at McDonalds.When they asked him, Harry never answered but nodded importantly and said he could not really tell them, but it was something really cool.

“Probably a poof” said Tom and shrugged his shoulders. ”If you don’t want to tell us it’s probably something poofy!”

Harry shook his head. He suspected poofs had something to do with what his brother Danny always called “being a big girls’ blouse”.

“Poof yourself” he said to Tom and made Chinese burns on his arm, something he was sure poofs would never do.

In the holidays Harry found out where bachelors lived.

They were walking along a beach and Mum pointed at some little wooden houses and said: ”Wouldn’t it be great to have a bach here.”

And Dad: ”Geoff has got a bach up North. Lucky dog! Of course, what do you expect? A bachelor!”

So that’s where they lived: in funny houses called baches near the sea, playing the field (or maybe the beach), having a laugh and doing just as they pleased….

One day they were talking in class about what they were going to be when they grew up. When Miss Roberts got around to him he did not know what to say, but when Tom kept whispering “Poof, poof “he suddenly said: “I want to be a bachelor Miss!”

Miss Roberts had smiled and said: ”So you want to stay a bachelor? Are you sure?” Straight after that Jonathan and Paul had started to punch each other and Miss Roberts had forgotten all about it. Harry was amazed. What did she mean stay a bachelor? Was he one already?

At night he looked in the bathroom mirror to see if he looked like Uncle Geoff. He did not wear glasses and Uncle Geoff did, but they both had red hair and lots of freckles. Maybe you needed that to be a bachelor. But Dad had red hair and freckles too……

“Dad?” he asked just before bed. ”You know bachelors?”

“Yes” mumbled Dad from behind the paper.

“Are you one Dad?”

“Unfortunately not!”. Wish I were. Don’t let anyone talk you into marrying them my boy.”

He got up and disappeared into the kitchen. Harry sat down. He was totally confused.

When all the guys talked again about what they wanted to be at Tom’s place they kept on harassing him. Martin now wanted to be a dog handler and he kept on shouting that Harry was going to be a Poof.

“Poof yourself” said Harry. “I am going to be a bachelor!”

They all laughed and Mike held his nose and said: ”Ooooh stinky!”

“What do you mean stinky?” said Harry.

“My big brother is one,” said Mike.”They call it Bachelor of Farts and when you are one you have to wear a black dress and you have to go to University to be one!”

Harry did not like the sound of that at all, especially the farting bit and the wearing of the dress sounded even worse than being a big girls’ blouse.

And why did you have to go to University for it?

He imagined a big, very smelly room full of big boys lifting up their black dresses and farting away. He felt sad. Being a bachelor didn’t really sound like fun any more.

“Just joking” he said. He looked at a big poster on the wall above Tom’s head that said ESKIMO PIE in big chocolate letters and showed a round-faced smiling man in a fur trimmed anorak eating a big chocolate ice cream in a snowy landscape.

“I did not mean bachelor,” he said. ”When I grow up I want to be an Eskimo.”

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