Picture the scene, it's Thursday evening, you've just had dinner, you get a text, one word "pint?"
Is this from some kind of curious milkman?
No, it's your mate Andy asking if you would like to join him for a drink in a pub.
Cracking idea, yes, just what I need to let off some stress. Excellent.
So, you meet up with him outside your favourite pub.
"Hey man"
"Hey!"
But just before you go in, Andy decides to light up a cigarette. Right, well that's cool. I'll just hang here shall I in baltic space?
Or will I go inside and make sure there's a scrumptious pint of Tennent's waiting for you when you decide to come in?
Fuck it, I'm just going to put my headphones on and listen to a song. Yes, I could have done that on the way here, but I decided not to. This particular song lasts 4:24 just so we can reschedule the beginning of out evening around it, I'm sure you'll understand. If you finish before me, just go in, I'll be in after this. Mine's a Tennent's.
I look like a arsehole.
Anyway, twenty minutes later, the night is underway, half empty glasses, conversation, then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, Andy just gets up and leaves. Just leaves the pub. No sign of him for a good while, you're just there on your own, exactly like you were when you were in in your house an hour earlier - only then you had things you could be doing.
He returns ten minutes later,
"Oh I just got talking to this guy outside who works in that other bar, you know, nice guy, he was telling me all about.."
"Oh hold on mate", I interrupt.
"Excuse me for just a moment!"
I leave the table.
Ten minutes later I return.
"That must have been a big shite!" Andy jokes.
"No Andy, it was not, I actually went to the internet cafe across the road as I am addicted to Facebook. Anyway, got chatting to a mate of my cousins who randomly added me, nice guy, we both like Battlestar Galactica, although he hasn't seen past season 3."
Again, I look like an arsehole.
So about half an hour after that, we're over it, two fresh pints, but Andy is clearly tiring of so much continious conversation.
"I won't be long, can you just watch my pint", as he gets up and out the front door again.
Aye, no bother. I'll just guard your pint, make sure nobody takes our table, our seats, or our jackets, that's why I'm here. I will make sure that the everything here is safe. I'm good at that.
Ten minutes later he re-enters, walks right past to the toilet, and is back in his seat another five minutes later, having stopped by the pub cigarette machine to spend £47 on twenty Benson and Hedges.
"Right Ross, sorry about that, where were we..."
Well Andy, I was just saying that this device here is the remote control to the C4 explosive vest that woman over there is wearing. It's motion sensitive, so don't drop it below shoulder height, anyway, just hold on to that for a wee bit, cos I'm going to pop back over the road to tag myself in some photos."
Arsehole. I am thee.
By my own admission, it is a strange way to react to smokers, but I feel it's justified. Besides, I'm a lot better than I used to be. Before the indoor smoking ban kicked in, when Andy sparked up a cigarette in front of me I used to just release a cobra into the pub to see if it bit anyone.
