the closing of footie season brings thoughts of less-crowded pubs across britain and that cross the channel continent thing. sure "pub" is not exactly part of the "drinkin" lexicon here in texas usa but one does here a quote-intellectual-unquote utter it on occasion, and the odd expat of course. they tend to go by "beer joint" in these parts and best case scenario there's a beat down jukebox with hank sr and the man-in-black on it, worst case, a big screen tv with our god-awful astros playing what amounts to double-a baseball (god their hideous, 8 in a row i believe, losses that is).
i dream of a time when one of my footie-fan chums comes by the house and my wife tells 'em, "oh, he's down the pub watching his arsenal"...
trouble is, i'm a tee-toddling alkie in recovery and the only "pub" around would probably be showing fucking man u for chrissakes.
just ain't the same with coffee and a room full of perfectly good teeth.
oh, and i also sometimes fantasize about that same wife walking into our bank branch and yelling...
"everybody on the fucking floor"!!!
in that there fantasy, i'm on the couch...
watching my arsenal.
pub or no pub, gonna be a long summer.
out.
Comments