A Genie Called Ralph. Fiction by Steve Higgins

Normally, I tend to republish my WordPress posts on Medium. This week I’ve been a little too busy to write something new so I thought I’d republish one of my Medium posts on WordPress.

What can you say when a genie called Ralph offers you three wishes? How about ‘yes please!’

This was my first holiday since last year. I had been working hard at my day job as a content creator for a bank as well as my own website The Left-Handed Blogger. My girlfriend had left me for another man and the weather was cold.

I was feeling a little down to say the least so I had surfed the internet and found a cheap(ish) flight to Bermuda. It had been a long journey and on arriving at my hotel I had changed into shorts and a T shirt and popped down to the bar. On the patio I ordered a large beer and settled down to enjoy the warm weather.

I scanned through my phone to see what was happening in Barbados and to maybe find where would be a good place to eat but the local news was all about some Mexican drug baron, Emiliano Montoya, who had turned up on the island. I scrolled past all that and was pleased to find some good reviews about the restaurant in the very hotel where I was staying.

I finished my beer and decided that there was plenty of time for a swim before dinner.

I dropped my bag and towel down on the beach, took one look at the blue sea and ran towards it. I swam for a while and then turned back to the beach. I dropped down on my towel and let the sun dry my body. I started to think about my blog. I wondered if my blog readers were wondering why my regular posts had dried up. Then again perhaps no one had noticed. After a while I dropped off to sleep. Like I say, I had worked hard; at least six months of eleven-hour days and I was tired.

When I awoke, I was annoyed with myself. I had turned to my side and already I could feel my right-hand side burning in the sun. Oh well, no matter. I just need to make sure to tan the other side too.

I pulled a bottle of water from my bag and stood up. I was feeling better already and I looked around at the fairly quiet beach and then back towards my towel. My foot touched on something and I looked down and buried there in the sand was a bottle. It had a sort of old world look about it. I wondered if it might be something valuable and I dug it out of the sand. It had what I thought was a sort of oriental look about it. It was heavy with a bulbous onion sort of shape with a handle and it was still corked. An old wine bottle perhaps.

I sat down on my towel and pulled on the cork and after a while it popped out and a huge spurt of smoke or gas poured out. After a few seconds the smoke began to pull together and it seemed to congeal into the shape of a man.

I fell back into the sand and as I looked up, the smoke became an Arab man in a turban and a baggy silk outfit. He looked a little stunned and began shouting in some sort of Arab language. After a while he noticed me but I couldn’t understand a word. After an age I recovered myself and said something totally stupid like ‘who are you?’ and he looked back at me in amazement.

‘Master’, he said in English. ‘You have freed me from imprisonment. Who are you? What is your name?’

“George”, I mumbled. “George Ferguson.”

“George, thank you for my freedom. Free to breathe the air again, free to feel the warmth of the sun. Where are we?”

“Barbados” I said, still not really believing what was happening.

“George, I am a genie, imprisoned in that bottle in a time when the earth was young. Let me grant you three wishes. Master, what is your first wish?”

Three wishes? He has got to be joking I thought. Where is the camera? Who is filming this mad stunt for Instagram or TikTok?

Without thinking I blurted out “Twenty thousand pounds!”

The genie looked at me as if I’d had said twenty thousand fish fingers. He thought for a while and then said “Master, I need to understand this new world. I will come back to you soon and grant your wish.”

With that he held his hands together in a pose of prayer, nodded thoughtfully to me and promptly burst into a cloud of smoke or steam and vanished.

I stood there stunned for a few moments. Nothing seemed to be moving around me and then slowly I could see movement and hear the sound of the waves lapping at the shore, the voices of children playing and the shouts and chatter of people at the beach.

What a daydream! A daydream so real it was almost untrue. Perhaps it was! What was that type of dream I had read about lately? A lucid dream. A dream that feels so vivid it could be real, of course, that was it! A lucid dream. Wow!

I laughed to myself then stepped forward towards the sea and my bare foot touched the bottle, the onion shaped bottle from where the genie had come. That had been the catalyst, the thing that had started the dream. It was a dream, surely.

Back at the hotel I went up to my room and took a shower. I was thirsty and after towelling myself dry I popped on a robe and walked towards the small cooler in the lounge and took out a bottle of water. I was still thinking about that daydream and wondering why on earth did I ask for 20,000 pounds? Why didn’t I say 100,000 or even a million? I laughed to myself but as I drank from my bottle it seemed as though there was a little steam or smoke in the hallway. The smoke became thicker and then coalesced into a man. It was the genie again but this time he was dressed in a light blue jacket, a white shirt and faded blue jeans.

“George” he said. I stumbled back and fell onto the bed. It wasn’t a dream, it really wasn’t.

“Call me Ralph,” said the genie.

“Ralph?” I asked.

“Yes, I decided that from now on that’s the name I’m going to use. I like it, I don’t know why but I just like it. What do you think of the clothes?”

“Great” I mumbled.

“It’s 2025 George. I can’t go around wearing that old stuff anymore. The world has changed, so very much.”

Ralph did a sort of twirl showing off his outfit. He did look pretty smart.

“Anyway, I can’t hang around here for ever. I came to sort out your first wish, here it is. He turned and picked up a black attaché case and handed it to me. I placed it on the bed and flipped open the lid. Inside was a series of crisp pound notes.

“Twenty thousand?” I asked.

“Of course, twenty thousand pounds, just as you wished.”

“Is it real money?”

“Of course it’s real. Although in my day we preferred gold but this is your day and things are so very different.”

He looked a little sad for a moment. Perhaps he was remembering his own time and place whenever that was.

“Now, your next wish. What is it?”

“Well, I’ve not really thought about it. I thought that -I thought this might have been just a dream.”

“Times change but people do not. Even in my century people were sceptical, people did not believe in me. But I have many places to see, many things to do. You have asked for money, not as much as I might have imagined but money nevertheless. Your next wish will probably involve power or women, which is it to be?”

I thought for a moment but the genie anticipated me.

“What sort of woman do you desire. Tall and blonde? A nice figure and an ample bosom.” He laughed and went on. “Those are the attributes that men seem to desire in this modern world.”

I sat down on the bed and smiled. “Yes, a woman like that but madly in love with me, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Wait, wait, whatever you may think, I am not the master of this world, just a small part of it. I would have to bring that particular woman halfway across the world to this place, how would she react? What would she think? What about the most beautiful woman on the island, would that please you George?”

“Yes, yes I think it would.” We might have been talking about a particular shade of wallpaper or a colour scheme for my lounge.

The genie smiled, “That then is your wish?”

“Yes genie, I wish to meet a beautiful blonde, the most beautiful on the island.”

Ralph jumped to his feet. “Your wish is granted but please, please George . .”

“What?”

“Please call me Ralph. I need to reinvent myself, to change myself to fit into this new world that you have opened up for me.”

“Thanks, Ralph.”

“Thank you, George. You wish will come true soon, in the meantime think about your final wish.”

“I will” I answered but even as I spoke his body had broken up into a swirl of steam and smoke and in a moment, I was alone once again.

Later I dressed and went down to the hotel restaurant. I asked for a table but was told they could not fit me in until 8:15. I glanced at my watch, it was 7:30 and I wished that I had booked. Oh well!

I ordered a drink at the bar, a gin and tonic and just then a really lovely woman came in. She was wearing a flowery sort of dress and had dark hair. It looked as though she was wanting a table for dinner too. She ordered a drink and smiled at me and for a moment it looked as though she recognised me from somewhere. Lovely as she was, I didn’t know her but then another woman came to the bar. She was tall and blonde and wore a short black dress. She had a gold necklace around her neck and a gold bangle on her wrist. She too gave me a smile and I began to wonder, would this be the tall blonde that I had wished for? I mean, how would the wish work? Would a beautiful blonde just appear in my room or somewhere? What actually would happen? To be honest I was still partly expecting someone with a camera to pop up and announce that I had been part of a TV or internet wind up.

The blonde had ordered a drink and seemed to be saying something; was she talking to me?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just having a little moan. I’m so hungry and I forgot to book a table. I didn’t think it would be necessary.”

She spoke English with an American accent and I asked if she was from the USA.

“No,” she replied. “I’m from Mexico but I have spent a lot of time in the USA. You are English?”

“Yes, over here on holiday. As a matter of fact, I only arrived earlier today.”

“I came here for a business deal with a colleague but it didn’t work out.”

I took a sip of my gin. She had hesitated before the word ‘colleague’ and I registered it for a split second but didn’t think about it further as she was smiling at me as if I was George Clooney or someone. She was very lovely, was she the one? Was she the beautiful blonde I had requested? Was she madly in love with me?

She did seem to be looking at me with a certain sort of affection, unless I was imagining it.

Anyway, we chatted and seemed to be getting along well. She told me her name was Lucianna and after a while the subject turned on to food. Tired of waiting for a table we went out for a taxi and asked the driver where we could get some good Caribbean food.

We ate together and came back to the hotel and after a few drinks it almost seemed as if we were old friends.

I awoke the next morning still tired. Something was under my arm and I could feel lots of hair. When I looked Lucianna was pressed against me and my arm was under her neck. I could smell her hair which smelt of shampoo and I realised I was full of the spent ardour of passion. I turned towards her and she moved closer, her eyes still closed and kissed me gently.

“I love you George,” she said. Why had I asked the genie -Ralph- for a girl madly in love with me? A girl who liked me would have been enough. Perhaps liked me a lot might have been better but not madly in love with me. In the world of genies and wishes there was a steep learning curve. Two million and not twenty thousand. A girl who liked me a lot rather than a girl who is madly in love with me. I should have thought about my wishes more, thought them through after all, at some point Ralph is going to return and grant me a third wish, my last wish and I need to get that one right.

I wondered if Lucianna was staying in this hotel, she must be surely. How can I get rid of her?

“Lucianna,” I whispered gently, “do you need to get back to your own room? You know, sort yourself out, change your clothes and stuff?”

“No senor. No. I am planning to stay right by your side for ever and ever. The moment I saw you I knew you were the man for me. I am going to ask Emiliano for a divorce straight away. Well soon, after more loving from my man.”

What did she say? Did she say divorce?

“You’re married?” I asked.

“I told you. That useless idiot of a husband. He doesn’t need me and I don’t want to be around when his fellow drug lords bump each other off.”

“His fellow drug lords?”

Wait, wait a minute. What was that on the news yesterday? The drug baron who has come to the Caribbean?

“Your husband is . . .Emiliano Montoya?”

“That’s him and it’s only a matter of time before the Americans arrest him or someone in the cartel shoots him.”

Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Have you ordered breakfast?” asked Lucianna. “Just coffee and orange juice for me and perhaps a slice of wholemeal toast.”

“I haven’t ordered breakfast” I said.

“I hope it isn’t Emiliano. He isn’t at his best in the mornings, it might be better for me to see him later. Wait, don’t let him know I’m here!”

With that she jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom in a blur of nakedness. I watched her as I pulled on a robe and went to answer the door and she whispered frantically “don’t let him in!”

I opened the door not really expecting the apparently famous drug dealer but standing there was a smartly dressed Hispanic man. He wore a smart jacket and shirt, in fact his outfit was remarkably similar to the clothes that Ralph was now wearing.

“Senor,” said the man politely. He had a huge moustache and a swarthy pockmarked complexion and said that he was sorry to be bothering me.

“I had something of an altercation with my wife last night, Lucianna, and the staff mentioned that you had a drink with her at the bar last night. She has a terrible temper but she usually calms down quickly and comes back to me. Last night she didn’t so naturally I’m a little worried. Is she with you, senor?”

“With me?” I put on my best surprised look. “Oh no. I did have a drink with her, at the bar. She might have mentioned something about an argument, I don’t remember.”

“Did you have dinner with her?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, but please don’t misunderstand me senor, I am not angry or hurt. I want the best for Lucianna, always. She is a headstrong woman and we have many arguments but of course, when she comes back, I will love her all the more. She is the love of my life.”

I was really just thinking about what to say next when the bathroom door opened and Lucianna stormed out in a robe screaming and shouting in Spanish. After a great monologue which went on for quite a while she reverted to English and started again;

“The love of your life? The love of your life. That’s fine, that’s rich coming from a bum like you. Did you say that to that woman in the bar in Los Angeles? What about that other whore, the one who you say comes only to clean your house?”

With that she screamed and set about the man slapping and punching him. He grabbed her arms and threw her onto the bed. He slapped her hard and she fell back, momentarily quiet.

“This is how you repay me? I work my fingers to the bone; I risk life and limb to earn us a good living and I find you in the bedroom of this gringo!”

Montoya turned to me -the gringo- I suppose.

“And what have you to say senor, stealing my wife, seducing her?”

I didn’t have to do much seducing but I didn’t say that and then as I stood there, slightly stunned, Montoya opened his jacket and produced a pistol. Lucianna screamed and made a grab for the gun but he caught her with a huge back handed slap and she fell back on the bed. All I could think of then in my terrified state was to shout for Ralph.

“Ralph, Ralph!” I called, hoping that perhaps my genie could save me and just then Emiliano and his wife froze. I stepped back in amazement and suddenly there was Ralph.

“George, what on earth is happening?”

“Genie, Ralph, you’ve got to do something. This maniac is trying to kill me!”

“Times change but people do not. Men fighting over women, women fighting over men. I’ve seen it all before, a thousand times over.”

“Ralph, you’ve got to help me.”

“George what can I do?”

“I wish, I wish everything was back to how it was before. .”

Wait a minute George, calm down. Do I really mean that? I was scared for a minute but now, perhaps I just need a minute to get myself together.

Anyway, it was too late. I opened my eyes and I was lying on the beach. I jumped straight up and saw my bag and towel were still there and the sea was just as blue as it was yesterday. I ran towards it and jumped in. I swam for a while just to freshen myself up and then came back to the sand and dried myself with the towel. Wow, what a dream! I took a bottle of water from my bag and drank it all down. I stood there for a minute and took in the birds and the waves and the chatter of people further down. I found myself looking down for the genie’s bottle but this time I couldn’t see it.

Later, back at the hotel I called down and booked a table for dinner then took a shower and dressed. In the bar I was told that my table would be ready in a few minutes so I ordered a gin and tonic. Just then a really lovely woman came in. She was wearing a flowery sort of dress and had dark hair. It looked as though she was wanting a table for dinner too. She ordered a drink and smiled at me and for a moment it looked as though she recognised me from somewhere. Lovely as she was, I didn’t know her. I wanted to talk to her but I wasn’t sure what to say. She smiled again and came over.

“Sorry to bother you” she said. “Do you happen to be a writer, an internet writer?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am.”

“I think I’ve read your blogs. The Left-Handed Blogger? Is that you?”

I laughed. “Yes, I’ve never been recognised before. How did you know it was me?”

“You have a little picture on your page.”

“That picture is ancient and it looks nothing like me.”

“It was just the way you were standing, just like in the picture. I usually read your blog every week but last week there wasn’t one.”

“Yes, I’ve had a few problems lately with the blog.”

“What sort of problems?”

“Well,” I took a sip from my drink and the waiter came over to say my table was ready.

“Would you care to join me and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Well,” she said. “I am hungry . .”


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8 Fictional Presidents

Donald Trump, the 47th president of the US, has been in the news quite a lot recently. He’s cutting down on the number of federal employees. He has stopped federal help for electric cars, he’s made it known he wants the USA to take over Gaza and he is also negotiating with Russia to stop the war in the Ukraine. He doesn’t seem to have involved President Zelensky in these talks despite Zelensky being the president of the Ukraine. Trump has even cast doubt on Zelensky’s right to be the president as, because of the war, Ukraine hasn’t held any elections. This is quite rich really as Putin, the leader of Russia, has not only rigged the Russian elections but has changed the law in Russia so he can continue as president and has also allegedly bumped off Alexei Navalny, his major political opponent.

It’s a story that you couldn’t write and that got me thinking about fictional presidents so I thought I’d start with a book I’ve just read here in sunny Lanzarote.

President Duncan

The President is Missing by Bill Clinton and James Patterson has been a good holiday read. A helter skelter fast paced read but moves along quickly and has nicely laid out short chapters to enable me to pause, jump in the pool to cool off and then resume reading.

President Duncan has a lot of problems on his hands. His wife has recently died of cancer and he is suffering from some sort of blood disease. On top of that the Speaker of the House has started hearings regarding rumours that the President spoke to a known terrorist on the phone and even helped him to escape capture.

Not only that but the President agrees to meet an unknown woman who knows a secret password known only to the President and his trusted advisors. She asks the President to meet her colleague at a football game without security and the President agrees and dismisses the Secret Service. Happily the Secret Service are hanging about closely and save the President from an assassin’s bullet but now he has to deal with a threat concerning a computer virus that will shut down every computer in the USA including those that deal with nuclear strikes.

One of the reviews on the back cover was from someone who likened the book to the film Airforce One, and to be honest, I felt the same way, even picturing the President as Harrison Ford, who played the President in that film.

The book was a great holiday read although I did wonder what part Bill Clinton played in the writing process. Did he just provide background to James Patterson or did he contribute towards the storyline too?

Anyway, the book was a great holiday read.

President James Marshall

Clearly I have to follow on with Airforce One, an action packed film starring Harrison Ford as President James Marshall. In this film the President leaves Russia in his aircraft, Airforce One after a joint US/Russian mission to capture a terrorist named General Ivan Radek. Unknown to the President, a group of Radek sympathisers have joined the aircraft posing as journalists. They take over the Airforce One but it looks as though the President has got away in an escape pod. However, the President was unwilling to leave his family behind and he has hidden himself in the cargo hold. The film then unfolds in the manner of a Die Hard film with the President bumping off the terrorists and managing to contact the White House and also to free his colleagues pretty much in the way that Bruce Willis might have done.

Not a great cinema experience but I kind of enjoyed it.

President Jordan Lyman

Seven Days in May was a political thriller released in 1964 and directed by John Frankenheimer. Kirk Douglas plays United States Marine Corps Colonel “Jiggs” Casey who works for Four Star General James Mattoon Scott, a highly-decorated officer played by Burt Lancaster. Jiggs thinks that Scott might be planning a coup to remove the President who has just signed a nuclear disarmament treaty with the Soviet Union, a deal which is highly unpopular with the military. Jiggs discovers that a military group known as ECOMCON has been assigned to seize radio and television networks. He manages to see the President and convince him of the threat. The President, still somewhat sceptical, organises a small group of staff to investigate.

Interestingly, President Kennedy authorised the producers to film scenes at the White House. He had read the book that the film was based on and as he had dealt with critical members of the military himself, was perhaps worried that the fictional scenario could be a real possibility.

The President was played by Frederic March who was one of the great cinema actors of the 1930s and 40s. He was the original Norman Maine in the first version of A Star is Born made in 1936 and even starred with Greta Garbo in Anna Karenina in 1935.

Presidents Palmer, Taylor and Logan

The TV series 24 first appeared in 2001 on US television. Each episode lasted for an hour and is told in real time with a digital clock on screen updating the viewer. The first series is set on the day of the US presidential primary in California. Jack Bauer, a maverick agent of the CTU Counter Terrorism Unit, is detailed to protect presidential hopeful David Palmer from an assassination attempt. Palmer was played by Dennis Haysbert as a potential black US president.

Season 2 details how Bauer, played by Kiefer Sutherland, must prevent a nuclear bomb from exploding and assist David Palmer, now the US president, in finding the culprits. Jack is assisted by a team of agents at the CTU hi-tech control room who are adept at computer manipulation, taking over feeds from CCTV cameras, hacking into other public computers and researching various information to help Jack.

Allison Taylor is the first female president of the USA. She first appeared in the episode Redemption which was a bridging episode between series 6 and 7 as series 7 was delayed due to a writers’ strike in Hollywood. Taylor was played by actress Cherry Jones and almost seemed to be a precursor to a real life female president. As it happened, Hilary Clinton was defeated at the polls and Donald Trump became the president in 2017. (Personally, I always like President Taylor. She always reminded me a little of Captain Janeway from the TV series Star Trek Voyager.)

President Logan was played by Gregory Itzin and first appeared in season 4. He was the Vice President but was later sworn in as President when the previous President was injured in a terrorist attack. As President, Logan becomes involved in the murder of former President Palmer and is eventually forced to resign. Later, he tries to help President Taylor with a peace treaty with the Russians but again, some dodgy dealings lead him to commit suicide. Some thought the character was inspired by real life President Richard Nixon. Whether that was true or not I’m not sure but Logan was a very tricky President indeed.

I thoroughly enjoyed 24. Jack Bauer was an uncompromising agent who was convinced that the end justified the means and would shoot anyone, threaten anyone, good or bad who got in his way. The series was a very slick hi tech espionage show which combined spies, shoot outs and computer science in an exciting TV series.

Presidents Kane and Kennedy

Shall We Tell the President was a novel by Jeffrey Archer first published in 1977. In the book Edward Kennedy has become the US President and FBI agents become aware of a plot to kill the President.

I read this book many years ago but recently came across this new edition, rewritten by the author himself. In real life Ted Kennedy never made it to the White House, his challenge cut short by the ghost of what happened to Mary Jo Kopechene at Chappaquiddick. In this rewrite then, the author puts his own fictional president, President Kane in charge at the White House.

The FBI learn of a plot to murder the President. A Greek waiter, an illegal immigrant, learns of the plot whilst working as a waiter at a restaurant in Washington DC. He calls the FBI and the two agents assigned to the case report quickly to their superior. Soon, one of the agents and their boss, as well as the informant are dead leaving only one agent who by chance has survived a murder attempt. He has six days to track down the assassins.

The book kept me interested but I can’t say it was a great read and I thought some of the dialogue was a little poor, in particular the FBI agent who kept referring to his new girlfriend constantly as ‘pretty lady’ was a little cringeworthy to say the least. Sorry Mr Archer but I’d have to give this one a five out of ten.

Just off the top of my head without using Google, that’s about all the fictional presidents I can come up with for now. Which was your favourite?


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Becoming Joe Biden

It was a Saturday afternoon, July 20th when I really thought about becoming Joe Biden. It started out as me just wondering about the man himself, 81 and wanting to embark upon another four years as president. 81? Bloody hell, relax man, leave it to some younger guy I thought.

Me, I’m only 42 but even I think about taking things easier, especially after that fall from my bike the other day. I do a lot of cycling. I do a short run every evening after work and at the weekends I take a good run over the cycle track through the local woods but this one occasion I decided to go out on a Wednesday, all because Paula my wife had gone out to some curry night and left me alone. Well, I cycled round the woodland track and a tree branch caught in the spokes of my wheel and tipped me right over onto the deck. I took a bit of a whack to the head and I’ve bruised my left thigh but other than that I’m ok. Good job I was wearing a helmet.

Anyway, back to Joe Biden. In case you didn’t know, he’s president of the USA. Theoretically the most powerful man in the world and as I lay back on the settee I wondered if, not only what would it be like to be Joe Biden but also if I could actually be Joe Biden. You know, become him, actually beam myself, my spirit, my being into his body and actually become Joe Biden.

I hope I haven’t lost you there. I know it’s a mad crazy concept but for some reason I thought that somehow, I could actually do it. Maybe it was that whack to the head but lying back on the couch on that sunny Saturday afternoon I set about doing it, actually projecting my persona into the body of President Biden. What would it be like I wondered?

So after a while I opened my eyes and to my great surprise, there I was in the oval office. It was actually more circular than oval. The carpet was a pale blue and the presidential seal was there. I was sitting behind my desk and I was tired despite waking up from a very comfortable nap. An assistant came in and she asked if there was anything that I wanted. I said yes, a cup of tea and a slice of buttered toast.

The assistant, a young woman in a dark business suit looked at me oddly. ‘What was that Mr President’ she asked.

“Tea and a slice of buttered toast if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all Mr President,” she said.

She went out and a man came in. He had a list of stuff he was reading, a sort of itinerary but I wasn’t really listening. Instead, I was thinking about what I could do on my first day as the president. After a little thought I decided that I would really like a helicopter ride. After all, the president does have a helicopter.

“I’d like a trip in the helicopter” I said.

“Mr President?”

“Yes, could you arrange that? We do have a helicopter, don’t we?”

“Well you are scheduled to be going off to Camp David this afternoon, in Marine One.”

“Marine One?”

“The presidential helicopter.”

“Of course. What time are we going?”

“Three pm Mr President.”

“Three pm. Fine. Good work.”

President Joe Biden poses for his official portrait Wednesday, March 3, 2021, in the Library of the White House. (Official White House Photo by Adam Schultz)

About this same time back in a small village in Lancashire in northern England, Joe Biden, the real Joe Biden had woken up from a nap in the oval office to find himself in my body, the body of Simon Harkness, a civil servant aged 42 who worked for the ministry of transport.

Joe was naturally a little confused at first, I mean there he was, the president sitting in the Oval Office, he takes a nap and finds himself in Lancashire, England. I mean, he was bound to be confused, wasn’t he?

Joe was on the couch and jumped to his feet. His surroundings were strange but not only that, he felt fitter and  stronger than he had felt for a very long time. He didn’t realise it at the time but he was an 81 year old man suddenly thrust into the body of a 42 year old. The difference was just amazing and apart from a little pain in his left thigh and what he later learned was some severe bruising, he actually felt fitter than he had felt for years.

Just then his, I mean my, wife entered the scene. She was due to go off to visit her sister and she came in chattering about the cheese sandwich she had made me and the left over casserole that only needed reheating in the microwave later.

“Who are you?” asked Joe/me.

“What?” said Paula.

Back in Washington I was getting ready to board Marine One, the presidential helicopter and I was rather enjoying it. A great many military men were saluting me and I was of course saluting back, I was the commander in chief after all.

We were all seated and ready to go.

“OK what are we waiting for?” I asked.

One of the officers looked a little pale and answered, “The First Lady, sir.”

The first lady? Of course, Biden’s wife. Now what was her name? Jill, I think.

After a while a woman came aboard and sat down and I realised it was her, Joe’s wife. She looked a little younger than Joe and soon we were buckled up and ready for take off.

In Lancashire Joe had quietly informed my wife that in fact he was Joe Biden, president of the USA and he was wondering what had happened.

“Is this something to do with that silly blog that you write Simon?”

Joe looked a little confused and before he could answer Paula told him about the sandwich and if he was eating it in the lounge to make sure he didn’t drop crumbs everywhere.

“By the way, I’ve left you a cup of tea on the kitchen table. I’m off now. Don’t forget you’re playing darts at the pub at 6.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any coffee,” said Joe.

“Don’t be silly. You know we don’t drink coffee in this house.”

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and was gone. Joe walked through into the kitchen and took a bite of the sandwich. It was good but a corned beef on rye would have been better.

Over at Camp David I was trying to think about something I could do to help out in the world. Maybe I could call Mr Netanyahu and sort something out about Gaza. Then there was the war in the Ukraine. Was it worth calling Putin and trying to make him see sense? The thing was they had one of those really huge HD TV screens over at Camp David and I settled down to watch some US TV.

Some aide wanted to talk about the re-election campaign and I mentioned that it was a shame that in such a huge and diverse nation the best candidates were two old men who were both past it. What America needed was a younger candidate, someone like, well that woman who’s the vice president. What was her name, Camel something?

That was when Joe’s team finally seemed to be behind me. After all I told them, I’m 81, it’s time for someone new to take over, some one like, what was that woman’s name? The very next day, Sunday, we made the announcement.

Back in the UK I’m not sure how Joe managed to make it along to the pub but he turned up anyway.

The guys all welcomed him and they were asking about his fall off the bike and when he came out and told them straight, he was actually Joe Biden, well they were all a little taken aback.

“Pint of Two Hoots Simon,” called Pete, the landlord.

“Two Hoots?”

“Yes, real ale, you were knocking quite a few pints of it back last Sunday.”

“I was?”

“Go on,” said someone,“Get it down yer neck.”

“The boys say that it’s your round so that’ll be twelve pound fifty Simon,” said the barman.

“Er, I don’t think I have my wallet,” said Joe.

“Bloody hell,” said one of the lads. “Come out without his wallet!”

“Could I open up a tab. I’ll see that the White House pays the bill.”

“The bloody White House” someone else called and soon they were all laughing together.

It was round about then when I thought it might be time to get back home. It had been nice meeting Jill and a lot of other people whose names I can’t really remember so I went into a quiet corner and closed my eyes and soon there I was, back in the pub. The guys were still laughing about me leaving my wallet at home but Pete was happy for me to come in the next day and pay my tab.

I didn’t do very well at the darts. I had a slight headache so after a while I wandered off back home.

Later, I told Paula about the whole thing, about how I became Joe Biden and went to the White House but she brushed it all off saying it was something to do with that knock on the head and that I had probably dreamt it all. Even so, on the news the next day I heard that Joe Biden had decided not to run in the election and he had endorsed Kamala Harris, his vice president.

I wasn’t surprised.


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