Payday

Remember what happened last night? Good. Now tell the world.

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TheDrunkardAnglo
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Payday

Post by TheDrunkardAnglo »

It was payday. There’s a time in the month when the money comes in and one ends up going out to play, though on this occasion it was not supposed to be a big night. A colleague, Varoufakis, knocks on and says “a cheeky one after work?” Of course, I nod in agreement. Though I suggest we mix it up a little. Too often do we drink in the workplace bar, it is cheap and cheerful but sometimes the same surroundings can make things a bit dull. I suggest my club, Varoufakis hadn’t been before and its never a bad starting point.


He finishes a little later than I do, so I agree to meet him in the smoking area. As part of my recent weight loss venture, I have really picked up a love of strong cigarettes. Predominately Marlborough Reds or Rothman Blues. I smoke three or four. We then walk to the club. Sign us in, give him a bit of a tour and then we head to the bar. We start on Guinness, move to Manhattans, then to Old Fashioneds, go through several bottles of the club claret and finally end on Moscow Mules. My club is the first place I had a Moscow Mule and I argue it’s the best place on this beautiful green earth for one. First of all they don’t hold back on the vodka, which is always Moscovskaya, they go heavy with the lime, a strong dash of angostura and they use a proper spicy Caribbean ginger beer. It’s a tingling drunkard joy.


We sit back in the now non-smoking smoking room surrounded by the portraits of history’s great men. I’m sorry to say to the lady drunks in spite of there being some exceptional women in the history of Great Britain, none of them are depicted in portraits or busts and placed in my club’s non-smoking smoking room. Is it misogyny? Probably. We head out a couple of times onto the terrace to have a couple of cigarettes before moving on.


We had some mutual buddies who were calling us, asking to join, it was getting late, they were getting needy. It was all a little to much. Plus the club was closing, we had to move on.


Where else to go but the bustling bars of Soho?


We end up in some hip bar, quick to serve the drinks and the music wasn’t too loud. Some Australian chap mid-forties came up to us “How long has it taken you boys to find a drink?” Varoufakis took exception to this, he found it rude. Lady Bacchus had made me a pleasant drunk that night, for I hadn’t picked up the arrogance in his tone, but dear reader he was arrogant. I first engaged in some small talk about the Sheffield Shield and then he started lecturing me and my friend on something around finance. He got his drink and fucked off.


He later came back, this time he was creeping on some girl in her mid forties. My friend took it upon himself to provide a bit of a flirtatious challenge. Varoufakis is a handsome guy, a good amount of charm. Our Aussie friend, lets call him Don, did not like the competition. He was shouting “don’t go there MAaate!” The girl was alarmed by Don’s outburst. He then insisted in buying her, her drink as well before being served again himself and buggering off once again.


We go outside for more cigarettes. There I was drinking, smoking, flirting with a few of the girls. One girl, blue hair. Theres one thing I should have learned in my approaching thirty years on this beautiful green earth. Avoid girls who dye their hair a bright colour that resembles a corporate energy drink.


She had an accent. I ask her where she’s from. She says guess. I guess Czech Republic, possibly polish. She says she’s Italian. I go “great Italy is lovely”. She says I’m a bigot. I say “How is guessing your nationality wrong bigotry?” She says “its not that but it is prejudiced!” I reply “what’s wrong the Czech Republic or Poland?” She walks away.


We finish our cigarettes and head inside. She sees me “you’re that guy who said I was from Poland”. She starts the whole spiel again. I reply, “I’m not sure you know the meaning of the words you use”. She walks away “what a fucking idiot” I say to the guys who I’ve befriended as we walk in for more drinks.


We get back to our spot at the bar, order more drinks. Don comes along this time with some handsome Black guys. Not sure what’s happening here. He says “you cunts, I’m not talking to you guys again!” I reply “Don’t be like that mate!” Varoufakis mockingly says “look I care about those who work in the finance sector too, you do a really important job!” Don replies “I’m not having it! I’m buying them a drink because they’re nice!” I think it was at this moment the handsome black guys had the inclination that Don may want their bottoms. They took his drinks but stayed with us as Don went back into the abyss of the bar.


Last orders of the bar came, the Italian girl with the fluorescent hair came back. She was trying to get a drink out of us. We weren’t going to do that. She returned to this whole racism thing, I replied “you don’t know what that means. If I was going to be racist I’d have said you’re Mussolini loving pasta eating idiot. I don’t actually think that I just think you’re a moron”. She paid for her drink in small change and left.


We finish our last drinks and head outside for a smoke. Only to be reunited with the Italian girl, this time and her friend. The Italian girl doesn’t say anything and Varoufakis is flirting with her friend. “She’s not going to fuck you she says to him” and then goes to grope the bouncer. Poor guy.


We head into China town. Enroute we see Don shouting at some bar “You’re all cunts”, he doesn’t see us. We pop into a restaurant and have a succulent Chinese meal. Truly delicious. I think it worked out £16 per a person too. No complaints.


We walk to the bus stop confronted by a very posh, very milfy pimp? Or Escort promoter? I’m not too sure what her formal role was. We’re of course not interested in sex with financial implications if it is not a mortgage or some form of legal partnership but it was very funny. She gives us the selling pitch. Almost convinced me I have to say. Though only almost. I’ll leave the whore of London to Hugh Grant. Alas we give up on the bus and get an uber out fast.


Back Five am, just as the sun is rising. Fuck the hangover the next day is going to be brutal.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.

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oettinger
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Re: Payday

Post by oettinger »

There`s a china town in london?

Why didn`t you hook Donnie up with the italian weirdo and grabbed some popcorn?
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Badfellow
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Re: Payday

Post by Badfellow »

Every time I read of your eloquently documented expeditions, I can’t help but think one thing… my God, DRUNKARD ANGLO IS SUCH A WHORE! A BLOODY RAGING MAN WHORE!

Also, I invited Czech girl and Don the Aussie Wanker back to your flat for an after party.
ພາສາລາວNONE GENUINE WITHOUT MY SIGNATUREພາສາລາວ

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Casual Binger
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Re: Payday

Post by Casual Binger »

oettinger wrote:
Sun Mar 26, 2023 6:52 am
There`s a china town in London.
Not much of one; but, yeah.

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