"Somebody grassed me up," he said.
Eyeing the horseshoe bar like a felon
on a three day ticket. A pocket full
of blunts, lids, and no sharp objects.
"Aye," said I. " You are a fuckwit."
Nobody at our table slowed down a jot.
Or quickened any.
"Maybe it would be more prudent not
to fire up your pipe with seasonal IOUs."
3 comments:
That's a great photo, look at the Council houses in the background too.
I wish there were some personal commentary attributable, but the photograph came from a retrospective on Dr. Marten's AirWair which I stumbled upon first in a charity shop in Glasgow.
It looks like it could have been taken almost anywhere in Scotland in the 70s, but I suspect it is actually in the North of England.
The conversation took place in a pub about twenty-five years ago.
To elaborate - most unseasonally - I had a couple of friends who used to make a small profit from passing on all manner of commodities.
This they did for a number of years, until one night I was taken to one side and advised in no uncertain terms that there was a new contact in town. The one and only.
We were introduced.
A callow youth who operated on the basis of distributing on 'tic', only to pick up those parties less than 24 hours later and drive them out to the 'woods'.
I declined the never never.
Subsequently I heard a few stories about young men found tied to trees and covered in cigarette burns. This without an ounce of embroidery.
A couple of nights later I was summoned to his table. Sitting there like a king with banknotes piled neatly on either side of his ashtray.
"Somebody grassed me up," he said.
"I don't doubt it, " I replied. "You come over like a flash cunt. I won't be doing business with you again."
I left the pub a couple of hours later and was shadowed by a kerb crawling car for at least a quarter of a mile. I didn't slow down or turn to peer in through the windshield and after some time it overtook me and disappeared around the bend.
The alcohol stopped my heart from leaping clean out my chest.
I would not fancy my chances these days.
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