Dr. Jekyll had nothing on Jimmy, who had at least four different personalities. Jimmy was thirty something, married with two daughters and was a petrol pump attendant in the small rural village of Lissnadee

At work, he was dour, surly and spoke in monosyllables. He performed his job satisfactorily, it wasn't in his contract that he had to joke with the customers, so he didn't. He finished each evening on the dot of six with a sense of relief, now he could get on with the real reason for living.

He headed for his spiritual home alias the local bar known as "Moran's". After a few thirst quenching pints, his second personality slowly emerged. He became the life and soul of the place, cracking jokes and making witty remarks that a professional comedian would have been proud to call his own. He'd hold highbrow discussions on every subject from politics to religion to the last bout of Ring and Mackey. Everyone was his friend as he shook them in earnest by the hand. He'd give a stranger the shirt off his back. This was the personality you could tap for a loan without fear of rejection. He was always the one to start the sing-song with his own lewd version of "The Rising of the Moon", to great shouts of "good man, Jimmy" and "wouldn't doubt you boy".

As the night wore on the deterioration became more marked, setting the stage for the third personality. With one hand he'd lean on the bar counter. Swaying gently, every now and then the sway would go awry and he'd stumble against the counter. Usually at this stage he'd give in to his bladder and head for the toilet. Weaving his way, he'd stop for a chat with everyone, especially the women. This third personality seemed to be under the impression that all women fancied him. He was very patronising to women and loved to embarrass them. He'd put his hand on their knee (higher if he thought he'd get away with it) stare them in the eye and make some stupid remark at the top of his voice like. "You're a fine half, Mary".

He got various reactions from "thank you Jimmy" to "**** off Jimmy". At either reaction he'd just laugh, pat their knee and go on his merry way always missing the reaction of the women, usually disgust and relief that he was gone from them. Near closing time he would be loud and argumentative, the sway would give way to violent tottering and spilled drinks. Every night at closing time he always had the same words with Frankie. The barman Frankie would shout:"Time gentlemen please". Jimmy would roar back "shag the time". "Come on now Jimmy, we'll have the guards on us". "Those shaggers, what do they know", Jimmy would shout back. Everyone would laugh and he would be appeased. Needless to say he would be the last to be ejected gently but firmly from the pub.

His fourth personality surfaced from the moment he was inside his own front door. This is where he proved what a macho man he was by shouting and roaring and beating his wife half senseless over some imagined insult or wrong done to him. His dinner was dried up or the yolk of the egg broke in the pan. His wife had to beg for every penny he begrudged her. "And what the **** had she done with the 10 pounds he had given her last week. Did she think he was made of money or what? What kind of a stupid ***** had he the misfortune to marry?" He told her he knew her family hated his guts, but he'd cut their throats if they ever said one word to him or about him.

"What had he ever done to deserve all this and why were the children crying at midnight? Had she no control over them? She'd better shut their mouths or he'd do it himself." Eventually he'd slam his way to bed, leaving the physical and mental devastation behind him, and sleep the night away.

Jimmy was a frustrated and frustrating man. He got excited but never emotional. No one really knew what he felt about life or love, what he hated or feared. Why was Jimmy like that? It's hard to know because out of all Jimmy's personalities not one of them is telling and one of the great tragedies of life is that there is a Jimmy living near you, plainly in disguise.

The wind swept shore,
That stretches ahead,
Deceptive rippling waves
waiting for my lonely footprints,
to gleefully rinse away
the proof of my existence
on this uncaring shore,
rubbing my arms for illusionary warmth,
feeling cold and so alone.
I ponder who from the past
stepped on that stone,
in my hand it lies,
so hard, so unyielding,
no secrets to tell,
in disillusionment, I drop it,
Looking back,
It seems content to lie in grey anominity
in it's sandy bed.