It was designated drinking day, what with it being a Sunday and all. A guy I knew, somebody I’d been friends with for over a decade, although now living in London was up in Scotland visiting his parents. To coincide with designate drinking day he came through to visit me. Naturally we went boozing.
First to Curlers and a pint of Heinikan, which was off. I suppose that’s what you get when you drink in a Scream pub. A couple of pints of Stella followed the Heiny. Stella because It has the unique positive attribute of tasting the same whether it’s off or “fresh”. After the first pint I was taking no chances.
We then headed to Jinty McGinty’s. Only one pint of Stella there as there was a lack of talent.
Vodka Wodka was next (door). There’s something, ummmmmmm, “strange” about a pub in Scotland which charges £3 a pint and smells of sick and Vodka Wodka did both of those. We didn’t endure the stench though. There was a conservatory. A fresh smelling conservatory. There was also a lack of talent. No talent, stench of sick in the main bar and a complete lack of motivation meant that we stayed there. Well I stayed there for three pints of Staropram anyway. After that I went home.
On the way home I got hungry. I decided to get a chinky.
I go in. I order. As usual it’s a 15 minute wait.
Just after I’d given my order some old woman, in her mid fifties or so tells me that I need to come with her.
I have 15 minutes to kill and I’m drunk. As usual, when drunk, I’m always looking for “an adventure”. I’m drunk but I’m not blind. It’s not “that kind of adventure” that I’m after. She’s old and haggard. Anyway, I’m drunk so I decide to go with her. In this case though it’s going to have to be a “mini-adventure” ‘cause my food is due soon.
So I leave the shop, the baffled stares of the other patrons following me.
The woman mentions something about me moving a table for her. Maybe it’s a table and chairs. I’m not sure. She did say but I can’t really remember. I was certainly a touch drunk and she was ****ing hammered. Comprehension in those kind of circumstances is difficult.
So we leave the chinky, heading down the street towards her home.
We get all of five meters or so. 5 meters. Two shops. She sees a light on in a shop. A guy is sitting at a computer in the front window. She starts pounding away at the window. It's half past ten on a Sunday night. I can only guess that the guy had been sniffing paint, lead based paint, because he let us in. We enter.
It’s a t-shirt shop. The crazy woman introduces me as a guy who drinks in her pub. I’ve never met this woman before in my life. I’m not sure if she has innocently mistaken me for a guy she knows or is just plain lying to the shop dude. I don’t care. Neither option bothers me. I keep quiet.
We’re in the shop and crazy woman starts unfolding t-shirts, looking at them. She decides that she’s going to come back tomorrow morning and buy two of them. For her husband. The shop dude nods. Nods and agrees. He just wants the bitch out of his store. Maybe I’m being unkind but that’s the impression I got.
Shop dude looks at me expectantly. I decide to act interested.
“Do you have a website?”
Turns out he
does.
We leave the shop, me and crazy woman together. Time has passed.
“I need to go and get my food now” I tell her.
She accepts this. We part company. This was not “such sweet sorrow”.
It’s now Thursday. I finish work. I decide to get a chippy. A fish supper. I appreciate that I’m living up to a stereotype.
I go in. I order. As usual “it’ll be a couple of minutes”.
I tell them I’ll be just outside. I tell them I’m making a phone call and I do. I call Steven.
I’m chatting away. After 5 minutes or so a woman comes out of the Chippy. It’s crazy woman from Sunday night. The conversation goes thusly
“Who were you talking to?”
“Eh?”
“Who were you talking to? Were you talking about Russel’s?”
Russel’s is a nearby pub. Next door in fact.
“Errrrr, I’m just talking to a friend.”
At this point Steven, realizing I’m being “accosted” by a random chips in;
”Are you talking to a prostitute?
I say “no”, although I’m not sure. She’s not propositioning me anyway. She also doesn’t appear to recognize me from Sunday night.
”Do I know this person?”
no I don’t.
Steven also asks something else, and although I answered it I can’t quite remember as I was having to fend off crazy woman’s conversation too.
While all this was going on the two teenage girls who were serving in the Chippy are looking out the big plate window and laughing at my situation.
Hybrid Mode