You can keep your melancholy and fuck right off with your infinite sadness too.

The melancholic waiter lumbered towards the perky threesome as if he was carrying more on his shoulders than in his hands. His graceful shimmying between tables had given way to laboured and heavy movements and for a larger chap it is indeed a remarkably dexterous dance that he normally weaves. It was if the weight on his shoulders was pushing down on him with a pressure he couldn't bear. He was a pitiful sight.

As he got to the table he made an abject attempt to force a smile and raise his voice above the gleeful din of the three ladies seated under him. But his, "Excuse me ladies" was as morose as it was impotent. He faked a cough, probably not what you want from a waiter all things considered.

One of the ladies looked up at the sullen faced plate schlepper and after taking a glug of her wine announced to her friends that the food was ready.

"Now ladies, who's having the ribeye tonight?" He could have been Death incarnate offering one of them sweet repose such was his monotone delivery. They never noticed. One of them squealed. But no one noticed the waiter's gloomy disposition. He placed the steak in front of the squealingly excited lady.

"And the pork?", asked the waiter again employing the same life sucking, doom hued voice as before.

"PORK?", screamed the loudest of the ladies as she stared at the plate of belly pork with fear. It was all very reminiscent of the mid 1990's, thought the waiter, when people looked at plates of beef in much the same way as they look at Gary Glitter - fond memories but never again.

"Aye, I'm having the pork....what's yer problem Trish?" Goodbye joyful camaraderie and jolly japes and hello defensive stand off. Normally such a to-do would tickle the waiter's fancy but not tonight. He just wanted to set down the food and flee to his hiding place where there were no people and no reason to have have to force a smile, no matter how pathetic it was.

"There's nothing wrong with the pork. I've had it here loadsa times. It's totally delish Trish." She let out an exuberant laugh as she realised she was the next Pam Ayers. Or maybe not.

"But what about the swine....". But she never finished the sentence as the waiter plonked, with an uncharacteristic lack of class and flourish, the risotto in front of her.

"The swine? He's at home watching football.....he can get his own."

And the three of them fell about with laughter. Big laughs, big big laughs. The sort of laughter that disappears for a moment only to come crashing back round your ears again as they are forced to take breath. Maybe she was the new Pam Ayers.

As the waiter walked away from the table he chuckled to himself. He was suddenly aware that he hadn't as much as smiled in four days let alone let out a chuckle.

Life is short, too short for morose thoughts and melancholy. Life should be celebrated and as one large life is coming to a premature and untimely and god damn fuck it unfair end the waiter realised that he needed to do just that, celebrate it. There will be time for tears soon enough but for now lets just revel in the life of a man who never spent a second feeling sorry for himself.

My father has been given a couple of months left to live. It's a short time for sure but I assure you it will be filled with more laughter than tears.