An Irish Trinity

The smoking-table was empty and I leaned against it, nursing my pint, watching the golf on Sky and the two Bank holiday drinkers underneith the screen with their justbackoffholiday tans and their two sizes too small g-strings riding above their size sixteen jeans, buying wine by the bottle for five pound twenty and laughing like trains. When i went up for my second, northern beardy twat pretended not to see me and carried on doing something with wine bottles! That boy will do anything to avoid pulling a pint. The regular sunday crowd were in and sitting down to my right. Wilson was fed up with being on call, I was given some freshly dug spuds off the twins, O'Connor sat his pint at my table and we talked of sultanas, O' Donnell joined us, thus making a trinity, and we asked of each other "are you well?" for what seemed like an age. And then O'Connor and O'Donnell talked of bulk buying washing powder and I knew that my third pint was to be my last.