Pint To The Brim

"Inside or out?"

I look around, to find all available seats occupied. 
Occupied by the city yuppies.
Gained by leaving that meeting early.
All having their cards on tab 
Because they can afford to do so.
With no choice, I say outside.
After watching the golden scrumpy be pumped into the cheap plastic cup,
And hand over a worn fiver,
I squeezed my way through the crowd
And joined the group of fellow smokers.

I stand, drinking myself away 
with the Men, in their suits and their boots
And another solitary drinker
As I watch the bustling London life
Walk past my empty eyes.

I drink the last dregs of my drink
To find 'PINT TO THE BRIM'
Stamped at the bottom.
"I didn't get my money's worth.." I sigh to myself
For the pint was spilt a little
When it was handed to me.