Popping out for a few
Why is it that the promise of just popping out for a few small drinks turns in to a long session with a thick head the next morning?
Last Thursday Michelle was meeting up with her work colleagues for a meal and a couple of drinks to celebrate the imminent departure of Liv in a sideways move within the department, I think!
The plan was for her and her buddy Nic to join them all at the Mezzé bar at the White Lion in the high st. Meanwhile me and my buddy Martin would grab a quick game of snooker/pool at the working persons club then join them.
Great stuff, but first we had to meet up at Nic and Martins for a cheeky one to get us warmed up.. 6pm.
The gals went off for their meal-(this is the second time that Michelle has had a meal in this new modern living restaurant in town whilst I have only snacked on a sausage sandwich!) Me and Mart headed off the the club for a pint of welcoming John Smiths. We are bothvery similar in many ways but particularly in the ways of the drink. John Smiths is the top of the 'wish list' followed by anything with the word 'smooth' in the title. (We managed to get very cosy with Killkenny in Dublin in July but thats another missed blog!) The John Smiths was most refreshing as we quickly attacked the only snooker table in the place. We played very bad rubbish snooker watched keenly by the local 'Just home from work' gang. They watch very carefully whilst chatting and expressing the woes of the day in delightful public speaking english! You never catch them watching you play but you can guarantee that one mishap is spotted and followed by 'The green goes on the other spot Mate' or similar guidance. 'Thanks boys'
Rubbish snooker is followed by rubbish pool. Actually the pool is not too bad as the holes are huge and the table small- my kind of ball game. we bashed them around for about five games interspersed with more glasses of Mr Smith. Amazingly the games totalled- 1-1 on the snooker table, 2-2 on the pool table before the final championship finalé. It went down to the last ball, both of us needing the black to win...Much to Martins delight he potted the black...and much to my delight he also potted the cue ball!!! I was The Champion...
8.30 and we had been summoned by the ladies to join them in the posh Mezzé bar (you noticed all these words with é in them!). I thought we were going inside to meet up but they arrived at the door and bundled us away. Bit rough for there then? Off to the favourite of our bars the H&W..Hall & Woodhouse which is our local because its...local.. We met up with some of the remaining party goers from Michelles workplace including the recipient of the party Liv. It turns out she is from Yorkshire (good girl) and spent the night delighting everyone with her great use of her fav phrase 'Dirty...Filthy...Bastards'. Anyhow the point of this blog was to tell you about the drinking excesses of these workmates. Most of them are young at around 20-28 I guess so they had found the shots glasses entertaining, plus the contents of course.
They got most competitive and the table got covered with a wonderful pattern of discarded shot glasses and slopped beer. It did get rather loud. Us older folk with more experience avoided these whilst casting a knowing glance at each other. Not realising that we were quietly knocking back far too much lager (no sign of Mr Smith in these posh bars!), wine and (double) gin and tonics in Michelle's case. The 'young ones' were in a right old state and thinned out at around 10.30. Goodness knows how they managed to drive home in that condition! The four of us 'persistent offenders' finished up to the tune of the last order bell but not before pouring beer into the discarded shots glasses and knocking them back in a mad moment of tom foolery and laughter.
I guess we are no different to the young ones really as we all woke up on sunday morning with stinking heads and empty wallets.
One of the 'young ones' had to take the next day off work to recover- She was not due to start till 1pm (mentioning no names but it was her leaving Do!).
So we are never going to drink again.
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