And noshing.
Thing that struck me was how ultra-friendly they were all with each other, and how they moved from person to person, without having to ghost anybody.
A few years ago, me and my friends went down to London for the weekend. One of the lads booked the digs, and they were in Soho, Air B&B, nice enough. Lovely summer’s evening and people were stood outside the pubs. We just stayed local and went into this one pub near that Ed’s Easy Diner.
I went to the bar whilst the rest grabbed a standing table and we continued our reminiscing and piss taking. My mate Johnny nipped to the bogs and then joined us. We were all chatting but I remember him having this disorientated look on his face that wouldn’t go away.
After 20 minutes or so, I said to him “You OK Johnny”. He just deadpanned his response so matter of factly. He’d gone for a piss but the urinals were occupied, so he pushed the door open to a cubicle. There was a bloke sat on the toilet seat, jeans round his ankles, stroking his thingy, just keeping it poised, ready for anybody to ‘jump on’ or ‘join in’.
That look on his face didn’t go for the rest of the night. It became his default face. It was a bit like this: