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A man has a drink and a dance

Updated: Sep 21, 2022

A man has a drink and a dance

Getting myself ready for a Friday night down the pub and something was in the air that made me sure it was going to be a good one. The British sun was out so if there could ever be a day for pigs to fly this would be it. This wasn’t any ordinary Friday night. It was the start of the month, the first Friday after payday. The best Friday of the month! Me and all the old fellas will be going and the young crowd will make their monthly visit to waste away their paycheques on crazy powder and jager-bombs. The young crowd brought with them the young girls. That’s what makes this Friday so good, their bodies are supple and nothing is out of shape. Naturally, you get a couple fatties. But for an old perv like me who can sit with a Stella in hand and watch them dance this was heaven and maybe this time I can join them, these painkillers the doc gave me are working wonders! You see I had a nasty fall in the pub a few weeks ago. Bashed myself up pretty bad so the doc gave me some codeines to ease my suffering. Mighty good they are, like anything they came with a catch. “You can't drink on these.” “But doc, I drink every day, I can’t stop drinking. My blood is half drink!”

“You absolutely cannot get drunk on these.” “Don’t worry Doc I won't be that silly.”

I think that's how the conversation went. I had my orders but I’m a sensible guy, so I hatched a plan. I would drink that sissy beer instead, Carlsberg. Taste like crap and diluted to fuck. That will keep me from getting hammered. I could not miss out on this Friday night. My life’s been empty since my wife passed and all I have left is the old boys and that pub. Normally I sink a few cans before going to the pub but me and the fellas meet up earlier on a Friday so it’s not necessary. So now that you are all caught up, it's off to the pub!

I leave the house and the British sunshine is out in full force! By full force, I mean that it is peeking out behind the clouds on a mild day. But compared to the norm that's a bloody good day! I walk past my old Hyundai accent. That car hasn’t moved in years and is covered in pigeon shit. Fuck I hate pigeons but I will not be distracted from today! Something about these painkillers made my walk a breeze. My leg felt little pain, I haven’t been able to walk like this for over ten years. I walk down the long road to the pub, with a row of council houses to my right and a farmers' field to my left. The countryside is beautiful in the autumn. A single mum approached me on her way back from the shop, pushing a pram. She was overweight but it must have been a recent weight gain as the flowered tattoo she had on her upper arm was rather stretched. But I had a spring in my step and the baby girl inside the pram was adorable! Before I knew it I found myself crouching down to share my joy with the little angel!

“Hello sweetheart, aren’t you adorable.” I give her my biggest and best smile. The baby started to scream and cry. Maybe she saw my brown teeth or that a few of the front ones were missing. I didn’t have the best smile.

“Fuck off old man! Can’t you see you're scaring her?” She swerves the buggy away from me and speeds up

“Weren’t you the old git that was passed out nearly dead on the bench a few weeks ago? I bet your wife is mighty proud of you!” Why does everyone always bring up my dead wife… It’s a strange feeling that I was getting used to, it didn't even stir me on the inside.

She walked past but my nature overtook me so I swivelled my head to check her out from behind. She caught me. “Get away! You’re disgusting.”

I was going to call her a fat bitch but I was a bit stuck in the crouched position on the pavement.

A car zoomed past. “Go on old man! Put another baby in her” Ha! She wishes. But then all my worries vanished as I slowly and slightly painfully rose to my feet. I had crouched! I was so elevated over the pure fact that I managed to crouch with minimal difficulty and little pain! I could move like a human! Blimey, if this keeps up ill be able to dance tonight!

I raised my hand in gratitude to the youths in the car as the sound of their cheers faded into the distance with just their loud car exhaust echoing away and continued my walk. Passing the halfway bench where I would normally stop to enjoy a can I heard a rustling in the bush. It sounded quite frantic. With my newfound ability, I crouched down on one knee and lowered my head to get a look at what was going on. I knew this was going to be a good day. Perhaps this was a sign that this was to be the greatest day ever. I saw a pigeon with its head stuck in one of the rings that hold beer cans together. I throw them fuckers on the floor all the time in the hope of this very moment! “That’s what you get for shitting on my car you little fuck!” I couldn’t believe it had actually happened. How does a pigeon that can fly get its head stuck in one of those things anyway? It wasn't even its head its whole body was trapped inside! I watched it roll about on the floor for a while and a string of guilt did pull on my heart. It was so far in the bush and despite my painkillers, I wouldn’t be able to help it anyway! So I raised back up onto my feet and continued down the pub, Fuck pigeons. I haven’t even had one pint yet and it was already shaping up to be a quality night.

I approached the pub just as the clouds were starting to hide the sun. It might rain soon but at least I won’t get wet. The sound of the stones parting under my feet welcomed me as I approached the front door. I could hear the laughs of the old crowd bellow from inside. I opened the front door just as roger was heading into the toilet. “Roger! How you doing mi old muckah” He looked at me and smiled. That old cunt had more creases in his face than he did on his un-ironed trousers. “Hello, you old Git! We’re all inside, I’ll see you in there I’ve got to drop the kids off at the pool” “Right-O” I walk in, hell I waltzed in. Walking was such pleasure without pain. The boys had pulled a couple of tables together. Stacks of beer mats were well positioned under some of the legs of the tables to keep them upright. The fire was just crackling out but provided the perfect amount of warmth to the air and gave the old bricks a nice glow. This is how I picture the pub in my dreams, It was perfect.

I get to the bar just as Hamish was being served. His brown skin lacked wrinkles for someone of his age. It was slightly leathery. Every time he picked up a pint I couldn’t help but look at his palms. They were as white as mine. He was the only Indian guy in the village, he did get a lot of stick for it. But fuck me could he give it back. Or was he Pakistani? Ah, what’s the difference? I loved the bloke and that’s what mattered. “Hamish! How you doing?” His name wasn’t Hamish but it was similar sounding, we butchered it every time we said it then one night Shane-O the barman called him Hamish and it stuck. “You're perky! No fighting flies tonight ey!” “I'm having the best day Hamish! I saw a Pigeon stuck inside a beer ring!” “You’re fucked in the head you are, want a beer?” “Carlsberg please mate” Shane raised his eyebrow from behind the bar. Ordering such a drink is blasphemy amongst regular drinkers. “What you drinking that old piss for!?” Shane said “Pain killers Shane-O, doc said I can’t drink.” “I'll let you off then.” Hamish ordered the drinks, paid and handed me my Carlsberg. “Here’s your girl's beer” I knew I’d get a ribbing for this tonight, but doctors' orders are doctors' orders.

One of the old guys got up and gave me the padded seat. They all knew about my bad leg and always gave it up to me. Good bunch of blokes this lot. I took my seat and took a swig of my pint. It was crisp and refreshing at first but then that pissy aftertaste came right after. My face contorted a little and Hamish must have been expecting it. “That’s what you get for drinking a sissy beer!” “Fuck off Hamish ain’t you got some onion bhaji’s to make!?” The table wailed. “Taste better than that shit you call British food, what the fuck is a cottage pie anyway, tastes like pigeon that crap, no wonder you hate them so much.” The table wailed even louder. “Shane can I have a splash of lemonade in this please…”

The jokes were flowing as I neared the end of my second pint. The DJ will be coming to set up for the night soon. I was taking it slow but as I finished my second Carlsberg I caught a little wobble on my way to the bar. “Watch yourself there fella, is your leg giving you stick?” I can hardly feel my leg. These painkillers are amazing “Yeah that’s it Shane-O, Carlsberg tops please” “One gay beer for the old man at the bar!” The pub cheered.

I grabbed my pint and took my seat back at the table. It was a break from all the jokes. Everyone had either gone for a smoke, to the toilet or to get another beer. I took notice of the warmth throughout my body. I felt relaxed and at ease. Joy filled my heart from the day's events and the painkillers had taken me back twenty years. I wasn’t sat at the table trying to drink my pain away anymore, I felt so light like I could float away. Heck maybe if I take a couple more painkillers I could fly and headbutt some pigeons! Ha! I had a chuckle to myself. The fire had long gone out and a few warm embers remained. The sun had set and the dim evening light was all that was left. The pub lights went on and the atmosphere warmed. We were an ugly table. Old grey straw-like beards, hair coming out of our ears and noses. Rough throaty coughs were uniform for us all. Everyone had returned and Roger was just taking his seat. He had a checkered shirt on and some light-coloured trousers. He sat down quite sharpish in his seat and Hamish next to him seemed to have clocked something as the side of one of his lips started to quiver and raise to a smirk. “Roger! Stand up.” “Hamish, I just sat down”

“No-no, Roger, stand up a second” Hamish stands up and everyone lets out a ‘wheeeey’ “He’s pissed himself!” Roger hadn’t, he had caught a bit of splash back in the toilet but was deserving of the stick he was about to receive “Roger, I’ve told you before, you can't stand so close to the urinal just cause your cocks small” “Oh fuck off you old git, ain’t you got some more painkillers to take” The DJ walks in as roger takes his seat. Del-boy’s face lights up as if he just remembered something brilliant, His handlebar moustache appeared to do a full 180 in pure excitement. I was on the edge of my seat this whole time, the jokes wouldn’t stop I was in constant expectation of what was next. “Roger, didn’t you get lucky this time last month with one of the young girls? ‘Oioi’s’ flowed around the table like a Mexican wave. “Leave it out please del-boy my misses was fuming!” I remembered this fondly and relished as del-boy recounted his tale. It was late in the evening and everyone was drunk. The young crowd had come in and the girls were getting loose. Roger was hammered and got up to have a little dance. He had his pint high up in the air in one hand spilling it as he danced but little did he know that a young blonde wanted to have a laugh with him.

I was sat in my normal corner chair at the time and was watching her closely all night. She had her hand raised in the air and her back faced away from me and roger. Her long blonde hair bounced up and down as her hourglass figure flowed from side to side, she looked over her shoulder and revealed a cute but feisty face. She saw roger in the corner of her eye and a sexy mischievous grin overtook her appearance, she bit the bottom of her lip and smirked as she turned back around. Her hourglass figure started to shake as she slowly went backwards rearing her tight arse right into Roger's crotch. He didn't hesitate to take both his arms and grab hold of her waist. Then she bent all the way forward, her head touching the floor and her arse almost doubling in size as she pushed it out and shaked it all up in Roger's junk. The old cunt’s whole body shook. I couldn’t tell if he was cumming or having a heart attack. Unfortunately for Roger, his misses was in the bar that evening. “ROGER!!! YOU DIRTY OLD PERVERT!”

The girl instantly darted away into hiding amongst the crowd of her friends “Roger Richard Smith!” The full name had come out. Heads went into hands and hands covered mouths all around the bar. Everyone was smirking but was hiding their faces in one way or another. “Fifty years we have been married! Fifty years!” She grabbed her glass of red wine and threw it in Roger's face and followed up with a nasty slap to the cheek, the weight of which almost knocked him over as her giant bingo wing of an arm provided plenty of power.

She grabbed him by the ear and marched him straight out of the pub swearing and smacking him over the head as she did. Was it worth it? In my eyes, absolutely.

Del-boy was wrapping up his story as I just finished my third pint. My face was strangely itchy but wow, it was so nice just to itch it. All down my neck I couldn’t stop scratching away. But first I needed a piss. I made my way into the toilet. It smelt of piss and shit, it wasn’t well maintained. The tiles were broken. One of the urinals had tape all over it which meant there were only two left to use or the toilet. I looked at myself in the mirror for a second, my pupils were tiny. Like little pinpricks. It was very strange. I decided to take a piss in the actual toilet. It was a sure way to avoid any splash back. Plus there's an added bonus of reading the jokes written on the walls.

‘I did a shit in here, Jonno.’ Simple but effective, I guess. I looked down and there was a tiny hole that had rotted away at the side of the cubicle’ Just about big enough to fit a pencil though. There was an arrow pointing to it and underneath it read: ‘Only Rogers cock is small enough for this hole.’ Ha! Even the toilets got it in for Ol Roger today. ‘Toni is a drunk wanker.’ There are a lot of drunk wankers in here.

‘Sellin good kush 07599679593.’ Fucking drug addicts.

‘I fucked Rogers's wife in the arse.’

Ha! Another for Roger.

‘Steve’s a cunt.’ I don’t know Steve but I found myself agreeing.

‘This toilet rolls wank.’ This was circled and was leading to another message: ‘Agreed, I’ve got shit on my finger.’ They were right. The toilet paper in here is wank. ‘This curry stings my arse, Jonno.’ How do I not know Jonno and why is he so keen on leaving his name?

‘What does tofu and a dildo have in common? They are both meat substitutes.

HA! I bet Roger’s wife loves tofu & dildos.

Then I saw a carving of a Swastika and underneath it read:

‘Fuck Paki’s’

That ruined It. I’m old and I have read many a toilet door in my time and the truth of the toilet door is it’s visited by a lot of people. It was the internet before the internet. The best way to get your message to hundreds of people. This sort of thing always attracted hate. The shock woke me up a little as I realised that I finished my piss a while ago and I had just been standing there in a daze, reading toilet jokes. I shook off and went to tell Shane-o to Tippex over that shit.

I left the toilet to head back to the bar. Ordered my Carlsberg and gave Shane-o the tip-off. I took a few swigs as I was leaning against the bar. That dazey feeling hit me again as I was relishing looking up at the ceiling. The thing clearly hadn't been dusted for cobwebs in ages. The lampshade must have been up since back when you could smoke in pubs. It had a dark brown tar varnish over what looked like it used to be white. “Hey. Hey, Old man!? Can I get to the bar, please!? OI MOVE!”

I shook my head from side to side, How long was I staring at the ceiling? The youngens had entered. Standing right in front of me was the blonde that danced with Roger last month. She had a lovely bit of cleavage showing and one of them push up bras. Her tits were fantastic.

“Oi if you’re gonna stare at my tits you got to buy me a drink.” My heart skipped a bit and I could feel my blood rush, Buy you a drink? Fuck yes, I’ll buy you a drink. “Sorry love, Of course, I’ll get you a drink.”

“That's alright, I wouldn't have em out if I didn’t want people to look at them”

She winked and my cock bounced up a little in my pants “Haha! Yes, well, lovely pair they are. What drinks shall we have ey.” “Oh, you joining me are you old timer. Why don’t we do a couple of jager-bombs and I’ll have a vodka coke…” She took a deep breath in and inflated her chest right in front of my eyes “A double if you wouldn’t mind Hunny.” “SHANE, SHANE-O, two jager-bombs and a double vodka coke.” “Shane-o!” “Yes you old cunt, I heard you I heard you.” My heart was beating, I looked her in her eyes. Deep blue… Her friends were just leaving to go drink in the garden. She went to turn around to talk to one as the conversation just blurred into all the other sounds going on in the bar. I was grateful for the opportunity to compose myself. I felt like a teenage boy again.

If I was still 21 this girl wouldn’t be gorgeous. But I wasn't 21, far from it. And she was stunning. The lack of fat, the youthful smoothness of her skin. Her ass and tits are still in place. Everything was where it should be, That's a gorgeous girl.

A million times over her and all her friends were gorgeous in every single one of us old farts' eyes. Except for the really fat one. Ah, who am I Kidding, even she’s gorgeous. I love a fat arse on a young girl. You see, your ‘taste’ in women never changes much after 21. A hot 21-year-old is forever a hot 21-year-old. The only thing that does happen when you get older is you appreciate maturity more. Yeah, fucking right. Love traps you. But love is great. Even greater than a hot 21-year-old girl. But I was out of love since my wife passed and this girl was everything an old man could dream of. Shane placed the drinks down in front of us. “Put 'em on my tab Shane-o I said.”

“I didn’t think they did tabs in here.”

They don’t, But Shane-o will play along. He’s a legend. “Oh, they do for me love. I know the owner.”

God I'm good, she must be so impressed.

“Well, ching-ching, thanks for the drinks.” She tapped her glass against mine and we necked our drinks. Tasted like sour cough syrup. I downed the rest of my pint to wash away the taste. Only to be reminded with another foul taste that I’m drinking Carlsberg.

“I’m gonna go sit with my friends now, but I’ll meet you for a shot and maybe a dance later yeah?” She snapped her teeth at me and her nose scrunched up “Sounds good darling. I’ll see you in a bit” A shot and a dance!? A shot and a dance!? I was in. I was gonna go further than Roger for sure. I was gonna grab her tits and arse not just her waist. I felt so alive. So invigorated. For the first time in years, my cock had blood in it and my testosterone was back. Shane-o spoke from behind me “Corr, I bet she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose” “You fucking know it Shane-o”

“You still owe me for them drinks” “Right, yeah, Stella as well please mate, I'm fed up with that piss, I’m not even buzzed” I paid and sat back down with everyone and caught them up with what had just happened. “Fuck me you’re in there,” Hamish said “Don’t cum in your pants like Roger did” Said Del-boy

“I’m not a pussy like Roger. I think she might even go home with me” The table broke into hysterics.

“What’s she going to want to go home with the village drunk for?

They laughed. Then they laughed some more, Then they started joking with each other and laughed some more. Did they really see me as the village drunk? I laughed it off and sunk into my seat, and into my beer.

I started thinking back to the girl dancing with Roger last month, but I was imagining myself in his position instead now. If I get a dance tonight I swear I could die a happy man. I could go see my wife up in heaven. I don’t think she would be angry, She knows what I'm like. My thoughts got broken up by the feeling of something wet running down the side of my cheek. I was dribbling… Is this it now? Am I so old I dribble without even realising? I wiped up the side of my mouth. My eyes felt heavy. But my heart was beating from whatever the hell is in them energy drinks and then the music kicked in. The loud bass of the young folk's music blared out. All conversations were drowned out in an instant as the high-tempo thuds felt like they were vibrating my old bones to dust. We all looked at each other at the table. Then everyone looked at me. They knew this was my night. Then the girls all come walking through the door. First, a brunette entered. She had fat lips and a fat arse. With a skirt pulled up to her thighs. I caught Hamish practically trying to sniff at it. Then came the fat one. She had on tight leather-like trousers. Maybe a whole cow’s worth of cheap Chinese leather enveloped her lower body.

Then my blonde entered… She danced her way over to me with her empty glass in hand. She put her hand on my chest. My blood pumped once again. “Want another drink Old man?” “Yes darling, ill stick it on my tab” She grabbed my hand and walked me over to the bar. The lights of the pub started to get brighter and I could feel my heart beating life back into me. I ordered the same round. “Ching-ching” “Put it on my tab” She took my hand again and walked over to the dance floor, she grabbed my hands and placed them on her waist. I could smell the perfume in her hair. Is the power going out? Why are the lights dimming? I felt another wet patch dribble down the side of my mouth, I quickly wiped it away and placed both my hands at the back of her waist right above her arse. She raised her hand and ran it down the back of my neck. My hairs stood on end. Who’s the village drunk now as I winked over to all the guys sitting at the table.

Wait where have they gone?

It was happening. I was there, The greatest day ever. She was rubbing her arse right up against me. I went to reach my hands around to get a grab of her chest… Then I heard a scream…

Everything was black, I could only hear voices, they whisped past and sounded distant but somehow hollow like the waves on a beach at night time.

“Oh my god that's fucking gross, it’s in my hair…” …

“Roll him onto his…”

… …

… “Yes err...”

… “About 5-6 pints and two…”

… …

… The sound of Clunking metal and the sensation of floating hit me

… …

… “Is there anything else…”

… …

… “He mentioned painkillers…”

“He seemed fine all night…”

… … … “No more drunk than usual…”

… …

“He’s always wasted, who could know…” …

… What was that slamming soun…?

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