‘ nearly two years ’, which was closer to the truth.
“ And you ’ re still working in that gym? That was money well-spent! ”
Sam decided it was easier to go along with it than argue. “ Yeah, I know. But I got out of work for three years, though. ”
“ At least you got pissed a lot, eh? No-one can take that away from you, can they? ” Chris chipped in, his tone surprisingly mocking.
But Sam was used to the banter; he had a few ready-made replies waiting that he ’ d trotted out many times before. “ That ’ s why I can ’ t get a job. Trouble is, they never ask at the interview how many shots I can down in one night, they want to know about computer skills and shit like that. My boozing abilities just aren ’ t appreciated. Look how quickly I can down this pint …” To emphasise the point, Sam purposefully sank the remainder of his drink. “ That skill took me three years to learn! ” The others roared with laughter. Sam ’ s quick retort had taken the wind out of Ian ’ s sails. His mocking would sound ridiculous if he continued with it now. Sam felt pleased he had half-won the point with Ian, but deep down it hurt. He did feel embarrassed about how his life seemed to be panning out, and snide remarks from his peer group cut the deepest, even if it was just half-cut bar banter. Sam knew people were often at their most honest when under the influence of a substance or two.
As the laughter died down, the group noticed a figure approaching their table. “ Dime-bar, how ’ s it hanging? ” It was Stuart Dynes, another crony of Sam and his mates. “ Not too bad. Been here a while, I see? I ’ m getting them in. Anyone want a drink? ” Again, the order was taken and several minutes later Stuart returned with replenished glasses of alcohol, met with noises of approval. “ What you been up to then, Stu? ” Ian enquired. “ Got me new car, it ’ s parked outside. ” A proud smile played across Stuart ’ s face. He was the automotive enthusiast of the group. Sam was pleased the attention had moved away from him. “ Oh yeah, what is it? ” “ Astra GSI. ” The others looked impressed. Although they were not into cars like Stuart, they knew as his friends it was decent protocol to voice a degree of admiration. He was clearly proud of his new acquisition. “ Goes like stink, does it? ” Ian said. “ Oh yes. It ’ s scarily fast. I ’ m still getting used to it. ” “ I bet it ’ s a fanny magnet! ” Sam also appreciated the need to give Stuart his moment of glory. Why shouldn ’ t he get some credit? He had worked hard to buy his new car, and now he wanted to enjoy it. There was no harm in that. His mates were more than happy to humour him. “ I hope so. ” “ Yeah, birds love a fast car. They never admit it, but they do, ” Sam added reassuringly, repeating an often-used conjecture.
Stuart spoke at length about his prized possession, occasionally using technical jargon which Sam and the others barely understood, but were happy to go along with. The evening wore on with more pints being downed, occasionally accompanied by a shot of vodka or tequila.
The inebriated banter became louder, and attracted the attention of Kevin Wilesmith, who was standing close to the group ’ s table. Kevin was a typical mouthy teenager. At eighteen years old he saw himself as something of a leader among his peers, like Ian or Sam. But, being five years younger, he still greatly lacked maturity, which often got him into trouble.
As he stood in The Crown the alcohol played havoc with his attempts to appear taller and broader than he actually was. He held a half-drunk bottle of Stella in one hand, a cigarette in the other. The contents of the bottle were frothy from constant movement as Kevin sauntered around the pub. He was small and skinny for his age, a late developer. He felt the need to make up for it by being aggressive and obnoxious.
Kevin wore the archetypal ‘ satellite town lad out on a
“ And you ’ re still working in that gym? That was money well-spent! ”
Sam decided it was easier to go along with it than argue. “ Yeah, I know. But I got out of work for three years, though. ”
“ At least you got pissed a lot, eh? No-one can take that away from you, can they? ” Chris chipped in, his tone surprisingly mocking.
But Sam was used to the banter; he had a few ready-made replies waiting that he ’ d trotted out many times before. “ That ’ s why I can ’ t get a job. Trouble is, they never ask at the interview how many shots I can down in one night, they want to know about computer skills and shit like that. My boozing abilities just aren ’ t appreciated. Look how quickly I can down this pint …” To emphasise the point, Sam purposefully sank the remainder of his drink. “ That skill took me three years to learn! ” The others roared with laughter. Sam ’ s quick retort had taken the wind out of Ian ’ s sails. His mocking would sound ridiculous if he continued with it now. Sam felt pleased he had half-won the point with Ian, but deep down it hurt. He did feel embarrassed about how his life seemed to be panning out, and snide remarks from his peer group cut the deepest, even if it was just half-cut bar banter. Sam knew people were often at their most honest when under the influence of a substance or two.
As the laughter died down, the group noticed a figure approaching their table. “ Dime-bar, how ’ s it hanging? ” It was Stuart Dynes, another crony of Sam and his mates. “ Not too bad. Been here a while, I see? I ’ m getting them in. Anyone want a drink? ” Again, the order was taken and several minutes later Stuart returned with replenished glasses of alcohol, met with noises of approval. “ What you been up to then, Stu? ” Ian enquired. “ Got me new car, it ’ s parked outside. ” A proud smile played across Stuart ’ s face. He was the automotive enthusiast of the group. Sam was pleased the attention had moved away from him. “ Oh yeah, what is it? ” “ Astra GSI. ” The others looked impressed. Although they were not into cars like Stuart, they knew as his friends it was decent protocol to voice a degree of admiration. He was clearly proud of his new acquisition. “ Goes like stink, does it? ” Ian said. “ Oh yes. It ’ s scarily fast. I ’ m still getting used to it. ” “ I bet it ’ s a fanny magnet! ” Sam also appreciated the need to give Stuart his moment of glory. Why shouldn ’ t he get some credit? He had worked hard to buy his new car, and now he wanted to enjoy it. There was no harm in that. His mates were more than happy to humour him. “ I hope so. ” “ Yeah, birds love a fast car. They never admit it, but they do, ” Sam added reassuringly, repeating an often-used conjecture.
Stuart spoke at length about his prized possession, occasionally using technical jargon which Sam and the others barely understood, but were happy to go along with. The evening wore on with more pints being downed, occasionally accompanied by a shot of vodka or tequila.
The inebriated banter became louder, and attracted the attention of Kevin Wilesmith, who was standing close to the group ’ s table. Kevin was a typical mouthy teenager. At eighteen years old he saw himself as something of a leader among his peers, like Ian or Sam. But, being five years younger, he still greatly lacked maturity, which often got him into trouble.
As he stood in The Crown the alcohol played havoc with his attempts to appear taller and broader than he actually was. He held a half-drunk bottle of Stella in one hand, a cigarette in the other. The contents of the bottle were frothy from constant movement as Kevin sauntered around the pub. He was small and skinny for his age, a late developer. He felt the need to make up for it by being aggressive and obnoxious.
Kevin wore the archetypal ‘ satellite town lad out on a
Similar Books
