The Things you Hear in Pubs

The final rays of the setting Sun angled through the dusty, smoke free atmosphere of The Thatcher’s Arms. There were still two hours of drinking time left, but the kitchen was already closed. In a corner next to a window overlooking a crowded car park, three people sat evenly dispersed around a large circular table. Oblivious to the music and the white noise of a busy pub each one’s eyes switched from one face to the other in deep discussion across the remains of three “Wednesday Tandoori Special” meals and their part-supped elegant Peroni glasses. A guy with his back to the window looked from one to the other nodding, but saying nothing.

On the next, much smaller, table a slightly younger man wearing a dark suit sat alone. Also with his back to the window, he had a view right across the bar area. His table top seemed crowded even though it only held a plate with a crumpled lettuce leaf and crumbs left over from of his tuna-mayo baguette, a pint “skin” half-full of a Becks Blue shandy and his iPhone.

The lone man couldn’t see the faces of the three people near him without turning his head, but he could hear their conversation. They were not talking loudly, but the voices of the speakers invaded his consciousness. He heard the person nearest say their piece, then another voice had their say. After a few minutes his iPhone bleeped and vibrated. Picking it up, he held it close to his left ear. After a muttered, ‘OK, got it,’ he pocketed the phone, downed the remains of the shandy and departed with the words of two monologues and a question bouncing around in his head – WTF are they up to now?

1

‘Yer just gotta go for it. Can’t be no pussyfooting around. Yer just gotta make yer mind up and do it. No fucker’s gonna thank you for changing course after you say you’ll do it. It’s better for everybody. That’s what yer gotta tell yerself. If yer don’t, yer ain’t gonna be able to live with yerself. Even if it all goes tits-up you’ll know yer followed a path yer decided on. Whatever happens yer’ll know if it was right or if it was wrong and yer’ll be able to deal with it. Pick up the bits and move on or enjoy the result. Either way yer’ll have peace of mind. If yer let yerself have second thoughts it’ll fuck yer head up fer the rest of yer fucking natural.’

2

‘I’m not sure I agree with that. There are times when it’s necessary to be flexible. I always tell myself: “listen Michael lad, this is a serious decision you need to make. You really should think the whole thing right through.” If you’re going to push ahead regardless, you won’t have a back door. I always try to have an escape route planned. Remember summer 2016? Now, if I hadn’t have gone through all the options and pitfalls, I’d have been in a heap of shit. I was able to curve round the problem because I had a back-up plan.

No Rishi mate. Suella's missing the point. Make your decision, but be flexible. It’s the only way to go.’