I WAS gigging in Sheffield again last weekend and afterwards we decided to make a night of it.
It’s funny how your idea of a good night changes as you get older. We all agreed that a nice pub were we could just ‘chat’ and have a pleasant drink was the ideal place.
Walking through the war zone that could be any city centre in the country, it was like a glimpse into our past, and what used to be the perfect night.
You have the big groups of men and women. And it was interesting watching how they operate. Generation after generation it never changes.
The groups of girls will always look out for each other, were as the groups of lads will do anything they can to emotionally destroy another member of their group, simply because it’s funny.
A typical example is when a shopping trolley comes into the equation. For the fellas it is like cat nip. We’ll instantly pick out the more gullible, daft lad out the group and convince him to get into the trolley, and therefore put his trust in the hands of a bunch of drunks.
If a group of girls find a trolley, they’ll ignore it or they might consider taking it back to get a quid.
Another example, is when one of the girls who is drunk and vulnerable falls into the arms of a bloke the other girls consider not good enough for her. They’ll pull her away and warn the bloke off. Yet, flip the situation.
You have a drunk and vulnerable fella. And you have what can only be described as a gruffalo, whom, as part of her preparation for going out that night was having to shave her back.
The other blokes in that group will do whatever they can to push their mate into that situation.
They’d even do a whip around for money for their taxi. And what would make it even more funny for the lads was if it turned out that ‘she’ used to be a ‘he’.
It’s fascinating too, when one of the girls is being sick, the other girls move into their roles. One will hold her hair up, another will rub her back whilst another will whisper words of encouragement.
When one of the lads his being sick, the other lads will cheer. One will boot him up the backside whilst the other will try to force feed him more jäger bombs.
I WAS at my mother in laws last week, and my son was sat on my knee getting extremely giddy about seeing an octopus on the telly. I was trying my best to answer his questions when my Mother In Law chips in with “oooh, and they have testicles too”! You mean tentacles, Eunice....tentacles