Landladies leaving "Do" Part One

Now, at the ripe old age of forty one and having spent twenty four of those years as a regular of various pubs, I know that the farewell to a publican is always a sad occasion. Whether it is you or they who are moving on, it is an emotional experience.
Tonight it is our landladies leaving "Do".
Last night before I left, Wilson told me not to have any tea before I came out as all the regulars were invited to the private party with a buffet that was being held in the front bar. As I entered the-worst-pub tonight, I saw that the area was indeed cordoned off and festooned with balloons.
I stood at the corner of the bar watching Sky Tv and ignoring Wallace, Albert Camus and Panic Attack. Albert Camus shouted over, " you're quiet tonight o'malley" I told him that I was. He walked around to me and held me in a bear hug and said, "Then I hold you, tell you I love you and we will speak tomorrow." You lovely, crazy Macadonian!

After my first pint I felt good enough to start to talk and approached the-smoking-table. It was full. I stood behind Derry-Man and moved him and his chair to the right. I was showing off. If anybody else had done that there would have been murder.
Cool-Hand to my left, then George, then Steelback, Steelbacks friends girlfriend, Steelbacks friend and Wilson.
For fucks sake, Steelbacks friends girlfriend had a body made for sin. And did she have to keep dropping her lighter and picking it up so that her jeans dropped and her top rose and we were left with a view of the sexiest lacy g-string I have seen for an age. And did she have to wear a too tight top with a bra that must have been two sizes too small underneith.