Twenty Minutes

Drove to the town of Newbridge this morning. A big checque had come through from my employers and I lodged it to my credit card account at the bank. Credit card paid off. At long last. A great sense of freedom engulfed me.
I headed for coffee at Bradburys.
An odd thought struck me as I quaffed the beverage in warm sunshine at an outside table.
I had started my working life in 1984. A few months later I had started my gambling life, aided and abetted by my brother Barn and cousin Vincent. Possibly the worst pair of tipsters in the history of gambling.
Because of the gambling I quickly went into debt.
Big debt.
The debt situation lasted quite a while.
In fact it lasted right up until the moment this morning when I sat at Bradburys drinking my coffee with the sun washing over me and a wondrous sense of possibility touching my spirit.
Yes, that moment was the first time in twenty years when I had no outstanding debts.
The car is paid for. The credit card is cleared. The mafia are no longer looking to break my legs over that loan from Mr Gannucci and that unfortunate business with Mr Gannucci's daughter Stabbissa...
Anyhoo.
I sat at the table in Bradbury's cafe, savouring the thought and savouring the moment.
Presently a theatre producer called Paddy Melia ambled over and sat down.
We talked about this and that.
My Lady Windermere play was mentioned.
(It's the one that was advertised with the slogan: Oscar Wilde didn't write this crap!)
Before long Paddy cut to the chase.
"You know I could get a theatre in Dublin for a month in the Summer for four grand," he rapped out.
"If you can get the theatre I can get the money," I shot back.
He departed.
I looked at my watch.
My debt free life had lasted all of twenty minutes.