The Voice Of Reason

Walked into the-worst-pub far later than usual, and, to my relief, found The Voice of Reason on his first pint and large scotch chaser. Sara was at the smoking-table with George and the plumber who wants to be an actor. A group of telesales twentysomethings were drinking something called "cheeky vimto" and getting touchy-gropey with each other. Meanwhile, The Voice of Reason and myself jumped from Nabokov to Vietnam, took in the heady sights of The Holy day of the beheading of John the Baptist and finished up on movie quotes. When he left I sidled over to Liam and John along the bar. Unfortunately, I hadn't seen George walking towards them at the same time. I was going to stay for another but that boy really put me off my beer. His stream of vitriol was an inch from my nose. Dear God man - You are rotton from the inside out - your breath reeks. Go home and brush your teeth you stinky fuck-wit!