Beyond Belief! Dan Dare #2

An-Ex Irishman's Diary -Thieves like us

Some random bloke took my suit jacket instead of his from a bar the other night. An understandable drunken mistake to make considering they were identical jackets sitting on the same stool. A not so understandable sober silence when it came to returning said jacket – both my Ipod and my phone number were in the breast pocket! Maybe he forgot to call.

Convenient. Like the guy that "forgets" to inform the cashier when he receives too much change, or when I "forget" to pay for my train fare because there's no inspector. Let's stretch it a bit. It reminds me of the politician that "forgets" certain dubious transactions, the white collar whizz-kid that forgets why he funnelled money from the accounts of corporate clients or the time-share salesman that "forgets" your face. If my random bloke's jacket was nicer would I have returned it to him? In a big city, where people are rude and blokes that wear nice suits tend to be wankers, what sort of rational incentive – in this instance – is there to return it?

Would returning an Ipod and a nice jacket to a wanker be more hassle than its worth? Who's gonnna know. Not returning it? Understandable, perhaps – in this instance. But whizz-kids, politicians, time share salesmen and fare evaders. Forget it.

Beyond Belief: John Satan

John Satan was a lovely man. Everyday he went about his day with a smile on his face and a pleasant word for all he met on his way. He walked to work with a spring in his step and a whistle between his lips. He was the nicest man you could hope to meet on a sunny summer day. John Satan was overcompensating though, he had to.

Socially speaking, John Satan never seemed to get back what he put in. As he served across a compliment and a festive wink, he was returned a foul insult and a single finger salute. No matter how nice John Satan was, no matter how much he dedicated himself to making everyone's day that little bit brighter, no-one could get past his surname. It didn't matter that he was no relation to his most famous namesake, as far as everyone else was concerned; a Satan is a Satan is a Satan.

John Satan became horribly depressed but found support on an Internet chat room set up in 2003 by a man from Chicago Illinois called Frank Yorkshireripper specifically for people who faced the same prejudices. It was here that John Satan first met Mary Chairmanmao. They exchanged e-mails, phone calls and eventually met. A fledgling friendship that was originally based on a common abnormality, soon flourished into a passionate love affair that celebrated everything that made these two people unique. Within months they were married and within a year they were pregnant. Tomorrow their son, Brian Chairmanmao-Satan, begins school.
Let's wish him all the very best.