Fish and Chips and having the hump

Is all right good enough? Is all right good enough for you? 

The girl in the Café

 

 

So we had gone to Oxford. A quaint pub to stay in, quiet, but not boring.

The owner was lovely and the more he drank, the looser his tongue became.

“I have only just come out of prison.”

Normally a show stopping comment, especially on a first night, but not with my other half around. “Why?”

“I was sentenced to fourteen days for criminal damage. Those bastards at the council tried to put speed humps outside the pub. I borrowed my friends JCB and dug them up. Apparently you are not allowed to do that.”

Basically he was like that all night. One larger than life story after another. He kept our drinks topped up and refused to take any money.

“It’s nice to have guests.”

Such a good evening. Different. Not a wild party night, but the kind of evening where you just enjoy the company and lose track of the time. It was, yet again, the early hours of the morning, before we got to bed.

We got undressed and she put her arms round me. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I want you to have sex with me. I want it to be gentle and romantic and I want you to make love to me all night.”

“Having sex with you is something I love doing more than anything else. But all night?”

“Have a go old-timer.”

I did my best and by the time I woke it was getting late. She was already up and getting dressed.

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Its breakfast time and the shopping won’t get bought itself.”

Breakfast was served in the pub. The old man with bad skin and wispy hair who had been sat at the bar last night was now polishing the tables. Periodically he would stop and have a drink from a whisky glass, then carry on.

“Everything OK?” The landlady, a big woman with hair in a bun came over. She was in a hideous T-shirt with the name of a place in Spain on the front and jeans.

“Lovely, thank you.” I was well through my huge, cooked breakfast. “Excuse me…” I thought I should lower my voice. “The guy doing the cleaning?”

“Harry?”

“He seems to be drinking.”

“That’s what alcoholics do. He comes in here six nights a week and goes home drunk. We don’t charge him for his drinks and we don’t pay him.”

“Why only six nights a week?”

“He says there is a good night on TV one night a week so he stays in with a bottle of whisky and fish and chips.”

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