Two ladies. Diddly diddley dee. Immaculately turned out. Venerable dames, dolled up and not a day under 80 (I guess) but looking fab and much younger. On a Saturday afternoon for a few pre-Christmas drinks with chums in a nice pub not far from the sea. Lady 1: What are you having love? Lady 2: […]
Brighton Scenes #9 Read More »
Overheard. Two slightly eccentric gents order a round of drinks at the bar of a Brighton boozer not far from the station. Their change includes a five pound note. Vladimir: That’s the second one today. Estragon: What? V: (triumphantly) A fiver! E: (very seriously) They’re like gold dust. V: I know. It’s always good to
Brighton Scenes #8 Read More »
Backstreet boozer not far from the sea, sunny Sunday evening. A flame haired, ill-tempered 30-something woman approaches the bar. She has enjoyed a few scoops. And I don’t mean ice cream. Her: (Rudely) What wine have you got? Barman: Red or white, madam? Her: White. (As if he should have known that) No Chilean. I’m
Brighton Scenes #7 Read More »
Overheard in the pub: First Man: Seen that Andrew Lloyd-Webber programme with Graham Norton? Second Man: The Eurovision one? Yeah. Bollocks innit. First Man: Nah. I reckon Lloyd-Webber’s the man. He knows his stuff. He might win it for us. Second Man: Win it? All block-voting these days. Even Ireland can’t win it. All East
Brighton Scenes #6 Read More »
Overheard. Two men and a woman in a pub: both fancy their chances with her. There has been much flirtation and a bit of bawdiness. Woman: So you’re a plumber. Man 1: He’s a heating engineer, there is a different. Woman: (Chastened) Oh. How’s business? Man 2: Shit. Man 1: He’s going to become a
Brighton Scenes #5 Read More »
Two men overheard on the London Bridge train as it waited to depart: – How was xx and xy’s wedding? – Not bad. But we had to buy our own booze. – Thought it was no expense spared? – Got fed. And a glass of champagne for the toast. – The way xy was talking,
Brighton Scenes #4* Read More »
Waitrose on Western Road. The checkout lady asks me if I’ll need some bags. I ask for two. The woman in the queue behind me, the sort of forty-something social worker type who puts the ‘right on’ into Brighton tuts. She then chides me for not bringing reusable bags: ‘we all need to make small
Brighton Scenes #3 Read More »
Three lads in the pub. Brighton boys. They all work in bookies shops. They talk about gambling, sharing stories of foolish punters. They boast about how much money they make from “idiots.” Soon they’re talking about Betfair, how successful and profitable it is, and how much they admire the founder Andrew Brown (sic). “What a
Brighton Scenes #2* Read More »
St James’s Street. On my way home. About 11pm. A tall transvestite in a ginger wig with a thick belt round a long jumper is strutting along. She looks like Donna Noble. A group of three twittering, bickering discobunny gay lads are walking the other way, towards her. One of them spots her and smirks
Brighton Scenes #1* Read More »
A young man walks into a pub. He’s from faraway, his English isn’t the best, but he’s trying hard. The barmaid couldn’t be less helpful. Him: A beer please. Her: Ale or lager? Him: Yes, a large beer. Her: What beer? Him: Normal beer. Her: (quickly) Carling, Grolsch or Coors Light? Him: (pausing) Yes. Her:
HOVErheard* A man walks into a pub… Read More »