Saturday, January 28, 2006
Atty and Goliath
Sunday afternoons in The Griffin were always busy but with the Liverpool V Man Utd game fast approaching the pub was packed to capacity. Most people had arrived early enough to ensure a good seat so by three o’clock the tills were ringing and the pub was singing.
Half pissed thirsty drinkers loaded their rickety tables to near breaking point, legs buckling under a sea of pints. The bar was three deep and the whole place a deafening clamour of drunken conversations battling like hungry seagulls to be the loudest.
Atty, a Griffin regular, was sat with Carl and Evo in an enviable position;
‘A spacious table benefiting from front and rear seating in close proximity, and with easy access, to both the TV and the bar. A desirable and much sought after location ideal for the first time drinker.'
Skin heads, Polo shirts, classic trainers and jeans, this was the uniform for seemingly 90% of the men in the pub, as well as a few of the ladies, and the three lads fitted the prototype beautifully.
The conversation was typically loud and crude. A good early start on the beers had ensured that the language would be as course and raw as any in the town. Atty was without doubt the loudest and at 32 carried a certain respect as the elder.
An hour to kick off and a salient air of both anxiety and anticipation mixed audibly with the already beer fuelled mercurial atmosphere. Atty and Evo were arguing over whose flash it was with the fags when a voice boomed in their direction;
“Oi! Didn’t you used to pick on me at school?”
Atty, always cocksure, turned round grinning with an unlit fag pursed between his thin, razor sharp lips to discover the question had been aimed his way. Stood before him loomed a mighty colossus of a man. Shaven headed leaving only the very merest suggestion as to his hairs natural blonde hair colour.
Atty’s head was as far back as it could get in order to take in the full magnitude of what was before him. His fag began to droop limply from his mouth as the seriousness of his predicament quickly took hold.
The creature had arms like great concrete battering rams welded together across a barrel sized chest. Atty’s grin drained smoothly from his face and the fag drooped and lolled flaccidly against his now sagging chin.
Trying to regain his composure Atty weighed up his options. Being of a light build he realised he had only one discernable advantage over this Goliath; speed. But penned into a crowded boozer he mentally concluded this was no option.
“Fuck off” He spat, removing the fag from his face “ As if id pick on you, look at the size of you”
“Yeah, you did, you picked on me at school, I remember”
Goliath came back. A sly smirk swept slowly across his moon like face, eyes narrowed menacingly indicating the impending danger.
Goliath took a step nearer to Atty’s table willing him to squirm, Evo and Carl blended seamlessly The Predator like, into the background. An apology or perhaps an offer of the beverage of Goliaths preference might go some way to mending the old wounds but Atty, not one for logical thought patterns, broke with usual protocol and rather gamely offered;
“Fuck off, if anyone’s the bully round here it’s you. Look at you stood there flexing your steroid pumped arms thinking your it, do us a favour and piss off!” Goliaths teeth clenched in rage.
I’m not sure to this day whether Atty saw the blow that swept so briskly across his face that day. His bottom jaw seemed to spring across the lounge bar like a till drawer and then savagely snapped shut. With a customary rolling of the eye balls into the back of his head, Atty’s seat suddenly became available and Goliath melted back into the throng of delighted on lookers. The perfect aperitif to the big match.
Sunday afternoons in The Griffin were always busy but with the Liverpool V Man Utd game fast approaching the pub was packed to capacity. Most people had arrived early enough to ensure a good seat so by three o’clock the tills were ringing and the pub was singing.
Half pissed thirsty drinkers loaded their rickety tables to near breaking point, legs buckling under a sea of pints. The bar was three deep and the whole place a deafening clamour of drunken conversations battling like hungry seagulls to be the loudest.
Atty, a Griffin regular, was sat with Carl and Evo in an enviable position;
‘A spacious table benefiting from front and rear seating in close proximity, and with easy access, to both the TV and the bar. A desirable and much sought after location ideal for the first time drinker.'
Skin heads, Polo shirts, classic trainers and jeans, this was the uniform for seemingly 90% of the men in the pub, as well as a few of the ladies, and the three lads fitted the prototype beautifully.
The conversation was typically loud and crude. A good early start on the beers had ensured that the language would be as course and raw as any in the town. Atty was without doubt the loudest and at 32 carried a certain respect as the elder.
An hour to kick off and a salient air of both anxiety and anticipation mixed audibly with the already beer fuelled mercurial atmosphere. Atty and Evo were arguing over whose flash it was with the fags when a voice boomed in their direction;
“Oi! Didn’t you used to pick on me at school?”
Atty, always cocksure, turned round grinning with an unlit fag pursed between his thin, razor sharp lips to discover the question had been aimed his way. Stood before him loomed a mighty colossus of a man. Shaven headed leaving only the very merest suggestion as to his hairs natural blonde hair colour.
Atty’s head was as far back as it could get in order to take in the full magnitude of what was before him. His fag began to droop limply from his mouth as the seriousness of his predicament quickly took hold.
The creature had arms like great concrete battering rams welded together across a barrel sized chest. Atty’s grin drained smoothly from his face and the fag drooped and lolled flaccidly against his now sagging chin.
Trying to regain his composure Atty weighed up his options. Being of a light build he realised he had only one discernable advantage over this Goliath; speed. But penned into a crowded boozer he mentally concluded this was no option.
“Fuck off” He spat, removing the fag from his face “ As if id pick on you, look at the size of you”
“Yeah, you did, you picked on me at school, I remember”
Goliath came back. A sly smirk swept slowly across his moon like face, eyes narrowed menacingly indicating the impending danger.
Goliath took a step nearer to Atty’s table willing him to squirm, Evo and Carl blended seamlessly The Predator like, into the background. An apology or perhaps an offer of the beverage of Goliaths preference might go some way to mending the old wounds but Atty, not one for logical thought patterns, broke with usual protocol and rather gamely offered;
“Fuck off, if anyone’s the bully round here it’s you. Look at you stood there flexing your steroid pumped arms thinking your it, do us a favour and piss off!” Goliaths teeth clenched in rage.
I’m not sure to this day whether Atty saw the blow that swept so briskly across his face that day. His bottom jaw seemed to spring across the lounge bar like a till drawer and then savagely snapped shut. With a customary rolling of the eye balls into the back of his head, Atty’s seat suddenly became available and Goliath melted back into the throng of delighted on lookers. The perfect aperitif to the big match.
# posted by aworthlessexistence @ 5:03 AM 
