Llanelli Turk 'Cariad'

Chapter Thirteen . Town

*Main Pic: Llanelli Town Library.

Chapter Thirteen

Town

The Glen Ballroom and bowling alley was a hangout for the town's youth. I didn't frequent the place too often, as it's a hangout for the wrong sort, as my mother would say.

That wasn't the reason why I didn't go to the place very much. The reason was the one-armed bandits and the smoke. I'd lost my pocket money and bus fare home on numerous occasions, so I just kept out of the place. I'm not a gambler at heart, as I'm not a good loser. I've also soused the place out by standing next to a man from Trimsaran, while he played the 'Big Jackpot'. A one armed bandit that paid out twenty quid. There he was feeding the machine, while at the same time feeding his addiction by putting loads of ten pence pieces into it. It gobbled them up! After some time, there came a loud ringing noise from the armed bandit with bright lights flashing all over the screen. "YES! I'VE WON THE JACKPOT!" He shouted excitedly, as more people started to gather around to observe his luck. The silver shilling pieces deafeningly spewed out into the mouth of the armed bandit with that clattering sound that gamblers love to hear; they dream of the sound, it makes them dribble.

I asked the man how much he had won. He told me the jackpot - twenty quid. And how much did you put into the machine to win that amount, I asked? I remember him going into his pocket, taking out some coins and saying ₤18.10.

His face showed a dampened excitement, and to add to this, I said insincerely, so the jackpot was ₤1.90, not bad.

He rationalized it by saying, "I won the big one... didn't I?"

Pathetic! There are better and surer ways to raise the wind - an honest day's work for a start.

There was a job coming up at the towns' swimming pool. They normally take on extra staff for the summer; it would be a temporary position, but a bag of laughs and it paid all right. In 1975, one could bounce from job to job in this town. There was plenty of work about, if one wanted to work. Nevertheless, jobs were hard to come by outside the factory and heavy industry sector especially without the qualifications and work experience. Unless you are, like me and forget about personnel offices or application forms. Go straight to the top and try to talk face-to-face, eye-to-eye to the manager, director, or owner. Then tell him or her 'exactly' what they want to hear.

"And where have you been?" asked my mum.

She had increasingly become impatient with me returning from town later and later.

"I've been down the pool with Bill Fish and the boys."

"Leo, I want you home earlier - eight at the latest, okay?"

"I missed the last bus, had to walk home... any grub?"

"It's Monday tomorrow... are you going to the technical college like you said? Your uncle would be so pleased to see you making an effort in doing something worthwhile."

"Mum, I'm only going because they have an open day. I can play about with those big computers they've got and see what's on offer... Is Uncle Hugh going to be there?" I asked.

"Don't know, he didn't mention anything to me." Replied my mum.

It was the end of April 1975 and the weather was glorious. It was like a morning in heaven, I thought to myself as I cycled towards the tech. I whistled to three girls as I passed on my bike - one of them whistled back. I took my comb out of my back pocket and gave my hair a good combing while continually cycling up Trostre Road. Then stopped on impulse outside a telephone kiosk to phone my Uncle Hugh. After the same old sound of birds from his answering machine, he greeted me in the same old way.