You can tell what kind of a clan we are by the television programs we select to view. "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" was compulsory viewing and we never miss "Police Camera Action" in case we spot someone we know. I watched "Shameless" first two series thinking it was a fly-on-the-wall piece.
It was not an usual event then when Middle Sis, Cuz and I were "asked to leave" once during an evening drinking session in a pub on Boston Manor Road. With hindsight a Beefeater outlet is not the ideal location when you've been necking Pimms at a barbie since noon and are simultaneously suffering from sun stroke.
We weren't even that badly behaved. There were a couple of enthusiastic Mexican waves in there and we did stand up and cheer every time the tannoy announced "Mr & Mrs Gobshite, your table is ready".
The manager was watching us nervously however and was becoming anxious that we would spontaneously erupt into a bit of Irish dancing or start chucking bog rolls around. He approached our table for a 'friendly' warning. "Could you keep the noise down please - this is a family pub".
Middle Sis meets his gaze and hisses, "We are fucking family".
We 'left' fairly shortly after that statement and headed off to the North Star (which is what we should have done in the first place because Angus never threw us out regardless of how many pints we spilt in his quiz machine). This is where we encountered the world's most boring stag party. They were so boring they were boring themselves. 'The Stag' was so dull he was wearing a V neck jumper and his name was Ian. He looked like a frigging woodwork teacher. Ian was so catatonically boring there was nothing to do but destroy his self esteem.
So when he emerged from the bogs at a point later in the evening we were chanting "Ian wears a V neck, Ian wears a V neck, na na na na, na na na na" with all his boring mates joining in. I think that's when he started crying. Wonder if he's still married or if he bored Mrs Ian into an early grave?
It was not an usual event then when Middle Sis, Cuz and I were "asked to leave" once during an evening drinking session in a pub on Boston Manor Road. With hindsight a Beefeater outlet is not the ideal location when you've been necking Pimms at a barbie since noon and are simultaneously suffering from sun stroke.
We weren't even that badly behaved. There were a couple of enthusiastic Mexican waves in there and we did stand up and cheer every time the tannoy announced "Mr & Mrs Gobshite, your table is ready".
The manager was watching us nervously however and was becoming anxious that we would spontaneously erupt into a bit of Irish dancing or start chucking bog rolls around. He approached our table for a 'friendly' warning. "Could you keep the noise down please - this is a family pub".
Middle Sis meets his gaze and hisses, "We are fucking family".
We 'left' fairly shortly after that statement and headed off to the North Star (which is what we should have done in the first place because Angus never threw us out regardless of how many pints we spilt in his quiz machine). This is where we encountered the world's most boring stag party. They were so boring they were boring themselves. 'The Stag' was so dull he was wearing a V neck jumper and his name was Ian. He looked like a frigging woodwork teacher. Ian was so catatonically boring there was nothing to do but destroy his self esteem.
So when he emerged from the bogs at a point later in the evening we were chanting "Ian wears a V neck, Ian wears a V neck, na na na na, na na na na" with all his boring mates joining in. I think that's when he started crying. Wonder if he's still married or if he bored Mrs Ian into an early grave?
Guilty as charged! I was just pointing out that most of us were related and therefore "family"
ReplyDeletePerfectly reasonable thing to do Ella, in my opinion.
ReplyDeleteGoing out with you two - always a risk of being arrested.
ReplyDelete