Phoenix, Rainham, Essex   Leave a comment

 

I got an ale in the Phoenix and sat at the end of the bar near the middle-age couple.  From the door to the garden a great clap sounded.  Just the one and with it emerged a somewhat older gent rubbing his hands together.  He came to the bar and ordered an ale then went back to a seat not far from the door he came in and started to read a newspaper.  Two minutes passed and he went out for another cigarette.  When he finished, he re-entered with the same single, very loud clap.  A friend of his came in with him and they chatted a moment until the friend went on his way and the smoker went back out for yet another.

The couple were banging on about how their first jobs, about 1980, paid 90p per hour and they worked 59 hours per week.  They detailed their expenses: £25 per week for room, board, and laundry.  Then Him Of This Pair actually said, “and you tell the kids of today that, they won’t believe you.”  I don’t think he knew the Monty Python sketch that I was grinning about at the time.

CLAP! The single applause (is that an applaw?) signaled the return of Nicotine Ned.  I was almost done with my beer and started to extricate myself from the absurdist improv at the bar.  It took a couple of gulps to finish my beer, quickly, but the Clapping Carcinoma was already out for another fag.

 

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Posted May 27, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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