| Apologies for my slovenly lateness. |
[06 Nov 2004|05:17pm] |
Indeed. I spent most of this morning trying to settle my head down a bit. It was very angry with me, and so it should be!
Let me explain. Fridays are not usually a night of heavy alcohol abuse. Certianly not for me, as I tend to drink the same amount, but at different speeds. Very different, actually.
I'd ambled out at nine, having become (as Bolb currently is too), utterly wretchedly opressed by the thunderingly irritating house we live in, with it's constant background noises, voices, television blaring, and all sorts of things to prove damaging to one's sanity.
The Bell provided a nice respite. I actually fucking enjoyed myself. Firstly, as I was sitting at the bar exchanging random pleasantries with Jim, a tall gent with a darting odd glance, came to the bar, mumbling occasionally to himself. He then leaned over it, and asked Ian "I'd like to try something else...what do you recomment? Oh, and one for yourself......."
He then had the same drink again. Upon reciept of it he stood at the fruit machine behind me, banging the buttons, winning and losing some, and he kept on saying things. Odd things.
".....not where I come from", he'd mutter, tapping a few buttons...few minutes later...
"Stock exchange........."
Yep, getting more stretched in meaning....I start chorlting.....
"Yes...............yeah...no...yes"
All the time. Eventually i'm holding my breath and sniggering, whilst reading the Minster Matters and swigging my stout. He comes to the bar again. He has FOUR Bailey's at once, then commences drinking, muttering and fruit machinin' again.
Back to the bar. "What sort of BOTTLE lager, you got?" he asks Di. He then tells her to decide. As if it's an offer. She hands him a Becks. He then announces after a few sentences..."I don't know WHERE I am"
Thing is...he didn't seem drunk. He just said some very odd and funny things. Babbling eccentric, you might say. I almost lost it here, and coughed to disguise my laughing.
It got better. Derek arrived. He is Sue's Texan husband, tall with black cap, and a checked woolen coat. Real dyed in the wool, including his speech. This is where I started my drinking spree.
There's something about drinking with a Texan, I think. Their brash "Yee Haw" nature, the way they talk about beer.......drinking with Texans. You just have to speed up.......this was even more jolly as we were talking about online Risk.....
"Yea man...AH BEEN PLAYIN' THAT RISK.....ONLINE MAN! "
"yeah? What countries have you managed to get?"
"THE WHOLE FUCKIN' WORLD MAN!", he bellowed, the accent and the subject making me laugh loudly and neck more Guiness with gusto.
Apparently he'd play it with friends in America....and "ONCE MIKE E'EN PULLED A FUKIN' GUN ON US MAN! Y'ALL AINT TAKIN' MAH FUCKIN' COUNTRY! NO SHIT BROTHER!"
It really was extremely amusing.
"Y'all ever heard of the band RAMSTEEEN, PHALLIS?"
"Yeah! They're really good! Fuckin' Du Hast mate...excellent, and they did a cover of Depeche Mode's "Stripped"....amazing .......EHEHE-HEHEHEHE-HHHH-HHHHH (My awful display of Rammstein guitar noises using my voice)"
"EEHEH-EHHEHE-HEHEH! Yeah! I'm A FUCKIN' AMERICAN TALKIN' TO A GUY IN HOLLAND, WHO'S SENDING ME GERMAN MUSIC! AHMA MAN A THE FUCKIN' WORLD, MAN!"
It was very funny. Drinking with the Texans. Yee haw. My rapid abuse of Guiness due to this tomfoolery was the end of me this morning. I awoke with a heacache that is akin to having a rolling lava ball in your head. A single movement...it's all over the place. I daren't move, but I came downstairs to neck some paracetomals, and wrote that Blurty post you see before you. Read and replied to Suzies lovely message, and then went back to bed.
It was like being in a tourist's whistle stop tour of hangovers.
"Yes, if you stare straight ahead you'll experience throbbing pain, ladies and gentleman...if you turn the head to the right and stare moaning at the stereo, your headache will move to one side OF the head and increase feeling of creeping nausea. If however you lie on the left side then the headache will get worser than ever"
Luckily for me, a sleep did the trick, and I was almost entirely recovered to go to work. Phew. I arrived there to find Melanie, Gordon and the kids.
Happy birthday to her. She's twenty one today.
Anyway, the imbecile pair were working, as Mel is having the birthday weekend off, and frankly we need two of them to do one waitresess' work. They would happily enter the kitchen bang on the time I was trying to clean the bloody floor so that they could fill some fucking vinegar pots, and stand there in my way for fifteen minutes. Time I could have spent doing something else.
Cheers, girls.
More work tonight. Thirty six booked. That's not a great deal really. It is the Playhouse Review just over the road, however, which may attract walk ins. In any case the pub is going to be heaving with drinkers and eaters of varying amounts.
Okay, that's your lot. Daddy needs to put his feet up. Not that they aren't already.
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