Regan and Carter

It was a proper top draw job on the smoking table tonight. I sandwiched myself between Regan to my right, Cool Hand to my left, The Voice of Reason was opposite and Carter was to Regan’s right. And they were all at the top of their game. As an appreciative audience member I laughed and laughed and I laughed. Regan, who hardly shows in the pub is a joy to behold. We were talking about . . . no, let me make this clear, Regan was talking about the glory of hirsute women, saying that after years of wanting less hair on a woman, he had now gone to the other extreme of wanting as much as possible. I told him my horror stories of the hairy woman I had lived with for five years and he wanted to know if I had any Polaroid’s? Then Carter, Regan’s partner told us this . . .
“It was a big job, I mean national job, they didn’t come much bigger than this. We had been waiting to move for a two weeks and nothing had happened and we had got bored. My mobile goes . . .’ We have tried calling Regan, his phone is fucked . . .pick him up . . .the mission is on, I repeat it is a go.’ So I called him on his personal . . .”It’s a go” I told him. “I can’t” he said, “I’m shaving.” “Okay, I’ll be outside your door in two minutes.” “No,” said Regan, “I don’t think that you understand . . .I am shaving somebody else!”