Lad in a Pub
Posted: 07 Nov 2017, 14:39
I saw quite an interesting little incident last Friday. I was in a fairly small pub having some lunch whilst on the way home from a short period working away and unfortunately the pub I chose was the location for a funeral wake. It didn’t seem a particularly sombre affair and there was certainly a lot of drinking going on!
There were quite a few young lads, in their early twenties, who were downing the pints and my attention was drawn to one of them, simply by the way he looked. He was quite skinny and wearing the tightest navy blue trousers I think I have ever seen! I honestly think he must have spray-painted them on as I don’t see how he’d have got into them otherwise! He had dark brown loafer-type shoes with a tassle on and no socks. His trouser-legs hardly reached beyond his lower shins so his bare ankles were vividly apparent.
He seemed a hugely confident almost cocky lad who clearly knew he was a good-looker and he was making a bit of a tit of himself by the way he was behaving – loud and ‘over-the-top’, lots of larking around and generally acting a bit stupid although I suspect the speed with which the pints were going down had an awful lot to do with his behaviour.
I first noticed him when I heard him saying, in a loud voice, “I need a wee!” Another lad said he did too and the cocky one said something like, “Come on, come with me then!” prompting lots of whistles and jeers from the group they were with, and the two of them disappeared into the Gents.
No more than 10 minutes later, I saw the cocky lad going to the toilet once again, this time alone and I’m serious in saying that a further 10 minutes, at the very most, had passed before I saw him going into the Gents yet again!
I didn’t see him afterwards but a short time later I was getting ready to leave and I popped into the toilet myself, only to find it was a tiny facility with just two urinals. No sooner had I gone in, than the door burst open and two of the other suited lads came in, one went straight to the free urinal and the other stood behind us in the confined space, chatting loudly to the one who was peeing into the urinal alongside me.
All of a sudden, the door crashed open and guess what – it was our lad with no socks … again!!
This time, finding himself in a mini-queue, he again began to act the fool. He was still holding his half-full pint in one hand and he was jigging from foot to foot, putting his arms around the neck of the lad who was peeing at the urinal, making daft noises and saying, “Come on, hurry up, I’m nearly pissing meself!”
One of the others said “You ought to move in here, the amount of times you’ve been for a wee.”
He replied, “I know, this stuff’s going through me like a tap” and then he acted in a childish fashion and began holding himself and hopping up and down saying “Quick, Quick!”
I finished at the urinal and was replaced with the other waiting lad and whist I was washing my hands, I glanced over and Mr No Socks was still jigging about and tentatively touching himself with his free hand, perhaps suggesting that his need was as severe as he had seemingly jokingly made out.
I left and went outside to my car and in the next few minutes, whilst I was sorting out some luggage in the boot, I realised that the full-size coach parked close to the exit was, in fact, for the funeral party. A few people were coming out of the pub and getting on whilst several were milling around at the doors of the pub and when I drove off several minutes later, there were even more people coming out, including the sockless lad who was now wearing a navy blue suit-type jacket over his open-necked white shirt, suggesting that departure time was imminent.
He was no longer holding a half-full pint of beer so I assume that he’d drunk it – to add to the numerous others he’d downed and which had sent him dashing to the toilet on a regular basis. I couldn’t wait to find out, but I imagine he was about to get on the coach too!
What an interesting journey that might have made?
There were quite a few young lads, in their early twenties, who were downing the pints and my attention was drawn to one of them, simply by the way he looked. He was quite skinny and wearing the tightest navy blue trousers I think I have ever seen! I honestly think he must have spray-painted them on as I don’t see how he’d have got into them otherwise! He had dark brown loafer-type shoes with a tassle on and no socks. His trouser-legs hardly reached beyond his lower shins so his bare ankles were vividly apparent.
He seemed a hugely confident almost cocky lad who clearly knew he was a good-looker and he was making a bit of a tit of himself by the way he was behaving – loud and ‘over-the-top’, lots of larking around and generally acting a bit stupid although I suspect the speed with which the pints were going down had an awful lot to do with his behaviour.
I first noticed him when I heard him saying, in a loud voice, “I need a wee!” Another lad said he did too and the cocky one said something like, “Come on, come with me then!” prompting lots of whistles and jeers from the group they were with, and the two of them disappeared into the Gents.
No more than 10 minutes later, I saw the cocky lad going to the toilet once again, this time alone and I’m serious in saying that a further 10 minutes, at the very most, had passed before I saw him going into the Gents yet again!
I didn’t see him afterwards but a short time later I was getting ready to leave and I popped into the toilet myself, only to find it was a tiny facility with just two urinals. No sooner had I gone in, than the door burst open and two of the other suited lads came in, one went straight to the free urinal and the other stood behind us in the confined space, chatting loudly to the one who was peeing into the urinal alongside me.
All of a sudden, the door crashed open and guess what – it was our lad with no socks … again!!
This time, finding himself in a mini-queue, he again began to act the fool. He was still holding his half-full pint in one hand and he was jigging from foot to foot, putting his arms around the neck of the lad who was peeing at the urinal, making daft noises and saying, “Come on, hurry up, I’m nearly pissing meself!”
One of the others said “You ought to move in here, the amount of times you’ve been for a wee.”
He replied, “I know, this stuff’s going through me like a tap” and then he acted in a childish fashion and began holding himself and hopping up and down saying “Quick, Quick!”
I finished at the urinal and was replaced with the other waiting lad and whist I was washing my hands, I glanced over and Mr No Socks was still jigging about and tentatively touching himself with his free hand, perhaps suggesting that his need was as severe as he had seemingly jokingly made out.
I left and went outside to my car and in the next few minutes, whilst I was sorting out some luggage in the boot, I realised that the full-size coach parked close to the exit was, in fact, for the funeral party. A few people were coming out of the pub and getting on whilst several were milling around at the doors of the pub and when I drove off several minutes later, there were even more people coming out, including the sockless lad who was now wearing a navy blue suit-type jacket over his open-necked white shirt, suggesting that departure time was imminent.
He was no longer holding a half-full pint of beer so I assume that he’d drunk it – to add to the numerous others he’d downed and which had sent him dashing to the toilet on a regular basis. I couldn’t wait to find out, but I imagine he was about to get on the coach too!
What an interesting journey that might have made?
