the old man at the pub
Today i had time to kill in the city, so i had a couple of lagers at a pub.
It was all going well until this old man took up the table next to mine.
After putting his beer down and lighting up his mini cigar type thing he started screaming, from what I could tell at his beer.
He then put his fingers in his ears like some inhuman force was screaming at him.
Then he left.
His beer was still there, as was his bag, but he was nowhere to be found.
Then about 15 minutes later he came back, looked around, picked up his bag and beer, and moved to the next table along.
He took one small sip, then went missing for another ten minutes.
When he came back he took out a scarf, took about 5 minutes making sure it was immaculate, picked up his bag and then walked away.
He must have been in his late 60s, had peroxide blonde hair, a tan three piece suit and the shiniest black shoes I have ever seen.
I kept looking up at that full glass of beer for almost an hour.
He never came back for the beer.
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I’m willing to put money on him being a regular at that pub – I bet he goes in there and does that every day.
We have a guy that comes into the library (where I work), throws the newspapers around the room and then falls asleep in one of the chairs. Often he urinates all over the chair as well.
It’s an irreverent joy.