Is pub night. From about 6 to about 8:15. This was our second Friday night pub night. I think it's not really good time to go to that pub. The few people who are there have been there for several hours washing away the weeks worries, and worse for wear. Not the same people as last time and no patriarchal sobering influences. Quite mad, and on reflection, probably quite dangerous - though I didn't feel it at the time (at least not as much as I should).
It's all quite jovial really - but there's an edge, a tension. I know I have an uncanny knack of exposing these feelings - I'm an overconfident loud mouth after a couple of pints. On top of all this I'm English - and although I've been constantly reassured that I'm "one of the good ones" one feels this judgement could easily be over-turned - especially after said couple of pints.
And the pints were flowing last night. Stand within twenty feet of the bar and people buy you drinks, which you must reciprocate of course, and it all spirals.
Nothing kicked off last night - despite some of my less cautious rants "Rangers are crap - they didn't deserve to win the semi-final last night" - all taken in good humour - but oh so close.
The minx
She came from Iceland. Here to study the spread of the North American Mink. She was young and good looking, female and alone - a pretty incendiary combination in that bar at that time on a Friday night. One of the locals - who makes a tour of all females entering the bar, decided to give her his full attention which included a non-too-coherent treatise on the penguin (because she's from Iceland innit). Having failed to impress with this he proceeded to throw £20 notes into her soup bowl, a chat-up technique I'd never seen before (and if anyone is wondering, it didn't seem to impress). Unsurprisingly she was clearly uncomfortable.
Being congenitally gallant, chivalrous and ...erm... drunk, I naturally rushed to her aid. As I recall this comprised of shouting "Give me the money man, give me the ****ing money". I'm sure she was greatly comforted by this intervention. Said man, on the other hand, was less than pleased. Amazingly I was sober enough to correctly interpret the bared teeth being flashed my way and took a visit to the loo. When I re-emerged I was relieved to see that the Icelandic had fled and our penguin expert had latched onto a couple of tourists. I had the good sense to leave and stagger home.
Once home I was treated to this spectacular display of colour.
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