You can’t always be fighting with people all the time. It just isn’t possible to constantly be in conflict. It’s a pain in the arse, in fact, and therefore, after having a little bit of a tiff wth Twenty Major, which in truth might well be partly due to my own touchiness, I thought it was only right that I should go out for a drink. Partly I say – not completely – but for me that’s a big admission.
And so I wandered into town where, to my astonishment, I wasn’t assaulted by any homicidal maniacs, nor did any lycanthropes, chimerae or vampyres attempt to impede me in any way. Furthermore, I encountered no scumbags, knackers, skobes, junkies or Mormons.
Incredible. Especially in a town like ours where there is almost nothing else infesting the streets except scumbags, knackers, skobes, junkies or Mormons.
What? How do I know these facts?
Easy. I read our national press. I didn’t know these things about my town until I read the national press and I’m glad as hell that I did. Imagine what could have happened . . ?
Anyway, despite the dangers, I ended up in my pub of choice, attended by the usual selection of bores, bombasts, potential Booker Prize winners and drunks. Well, mostly drunks.
Hey Bock, shouted the Duke of Leinster, what about the disappearing bees?
Fuck ’em, I replied, with a surly shrug.
What’s a ziggurat? the never-ending-crossword-lady demanded.
Fuck off, I replied helpfully.
Come here to me, demanded a total stranger. Did you ever hear of the Heimlich Remover?
Yes, I confirmed. It gets rid of you, if done right.
What’s a behemoth? said the the never-ending-crossword-lady.
Fuck you, I smiled.
My pub of choice, for some reason, seems to have a preponderance of Canadian people working in it, and tonight it was full of drunken Canadian people playing guitars and fiddles because one of them was heading home. Eh? Over in the corner, some young guy is playing Looking Out My Back Door, a Creedence song that he has no business knowing at his age.
As I left to meet my taxi, I was accosted by one of the Canadians.
Get home safe, said a huge fat bearded guy with no teeth.
Hey, I said. I’m only guessing here, but would you be into ice hockey?
Hey!! he beamed. How’d you figure that out?
Don’t know, I said. Put it down to intuition.
Hey, he continued, be safe.
I’ll try my best, I assured him.