Tuesday, March 18, 2008


A fair few moons ago I met up with a friend that I hadn't seen for lots of moons.
As we had years of catching up to do we headed to a pub where I knew the atmos was good, and also there wouldn't be anybody we knew around to interrupt out gossip-fest.
We arrived at the pub and it was rather busier that we'd have liked, but we decided that as we were there we'd wait for a seat rather than go try find another pub in the area.
After about ten minutes, I spotted a couple of seats in a corner of the bar, but they were next to a couple of blokes. As my back was hurting I took a chance and went over and asked if there was anybody using the seats, the chaps replied no, and so my friend and I replenished our drinkies and sat down for a long overdue chin-wag.
It wasn't long before one of the guys asked us if we'd like a drink. We politely declined and carried on chatting.
A few minutes later, one of the chaps went to the bar, and came back with a bottle of wine for us saying that as we were both so beautiful, they weren't going to give up and take no for an answer.
I tried not to vomit on them, and luckily for them, managed to keep my dinner inside me.
My friend and I exchanged wry smiles as we resigned ourselves to the fact that unless we fucked off went somewhere else, our chance of catching up on the past few years would have to wait a while.
The blokes began asking us questions such as 'Where were we from?', 'What did we think of the pub?' and the ubiquitous 'Did we come here often?' as my friend and I tried to finish our drinks asap.
We politely replied and although our hearts weren't in it, chatted to them a bit as well.
The conversation turned to what we all did for a living, and after we'd been informed that we were talking to an out-of-work artist and a 'resting' musician, my friend started talking about her work.
It was at that point that one of the blokes started skinning up a doobie.
I couldn't believe it; although he was doing it on the seat rather than on the table, there was no hiding the fact that he was rolling up a joint using a rather copious amount of black.
My friend also noticed what he was doing and her sentence about what she'd been doing in Australia trailed off as she twigged.
Now, I'm not against drugs, hell, sometimes I quite like them, but for somebody to be so stupid as to skin up in public, in a pub, right in front of two total strangers is IMHO, worthy of a Golden Muppet Award.
Then, to even further amazement, he lit it up, took a few tokes, then offered it to me as he asked 'So what do you do for a living then?'
I couldn't resist.
I smiled sweetly, looked him straight in the eye and replied...

"Me? I'm a police officer"

I thought for a minute I was going to have to dial 999 as the poor chap started choking and coughing a lot, but then just as I thought he was going to collapse he pulled himself together, grabbed his friend and for some strange reason hoofed it out of the pub PDQ.
My friend and I sat back and chilled out while we finished off the bottle of wine in peace and quiet, and nattered about life the universe, and chocolate until closing time.
All in all, it was a good evening out.