(Article by Michael Holden)
I could see the man at the next table was having a hard time from the way he held his drinks-for dear life, it seemed. He stared into the middle distance with an air of furious sorrow and swallowed beer in great mouthfuls, around a third of a pint each time. At the end of his second something like relief came to his face and then he was joined by a friend who bought another drink to his table.
Man 1 (upbeat) “How are we.”
Man 2 (morose) “In fucking bits.”
Man 1 “You haven't slept at all?”
He shook his head
Man 1 “I don't know how you get away with it.”
Man 2 “I don't though, do I? That's why I'm in here.”
Man1 “It could be worse.”
Man 2 “How? How feasibly could it be worse?”
Man 1 “Look, if I’d known you were gonna do the whole self pity thing I wouldn’t have come.”
Man 2 “No, I’m sorry. I do appreciate it. Or I will do when I get myself together.”
Man 1 “Well be sure and give me a ring when that happens.”
Man 2 (finishing his pint) “I’m feeling better already.”
Man 1 “Good, well, one step at a time eh?”
Man 2 “Yeah.”
Then he got up and walked to the toilet and was sick so loudly you could hear him through the door and over the jukebox, which was playing Christmas tunes.
Posts
