The Smoking-Table Coup

After musing on the worried mutterings of the sex tourists from the day before, I realised that we had our very own bloodless coup taking place in the-worst-pub. For the last three night's running, Wallace and Birdman have been sipping at the prized smoking-table while the lads have had to sit and drink at the eating tables. For years Birdman and Wallace have lived in exile drinking at the shelf opposite the jukebox. Drinkers without a spiritual home, living in the shadows on the edge of the world. But there they now are, as bold as brass, the two of them drinking at the smoking-table. I can only assume that this coup has been months in the planning and has been executed with precision and daring. They must take it in turns to get to the-worst-pub early and plant a beery standard upon the smoking-table. Let us say, for instance that it is Wallace's shift - he orders his pint of best and places it on the empty smoking-table sitting himself upon the thrown, which is the barstool directly facing sky television. Then, let us imagine, Liam walks in, buys his pint of Fosters and turns around to find Wallace smiling in a come-hither way from the smoking-table. As Liam would rather eat his own left testicle than drink with Wallace, he is left with no other option other than sitting down at the eating tables under the tv screen. And drinker by entering drinker, this pattern continues until the eating tables are full and only Birdman has joined Wallace at the smoking-table where they drink alone, as usual.