Dear Octopus,
Life takes us in strange directions. I spent the whole day yesterday ruminating morosely on the fact that as I've been out-voted on the retention of our Sky Sports Package (those against: 3, those for: 1), I would have to suffer watching Tottenham Hotspur's crushing Champions' League defeat away at AC Milan from the confines of the back room at the Pig, the impoverished local public house at the end of our road. A friendless, joyless experience nursing a pint and bemoaning Benoit Assou-Ekotto's meagre passing ability in a grim corner of a grim tavern. Alone.
I got home to find Pongo preparing dinner and Honksy ill-equipped to sympathise with the intrinsic and insurmountable miseries of my adult life.
Strange then, that Pongo agreed to come with me. Stranger that Honksy then agreed to come too. Infinitely strange that the Pig has been secretly refurbished, and is now a delightful, idyllic little local watering hole with a roaring hearth, leather armchairs and a very reasonably priced menu. Even stranger that Tottenham actually won.
The strangest thing though was how secondary the victory (masterful though it was) became to the enjoyment of my evening. Honksy took to the game with relish, even cheering for my team when spirits were low. Entertaining at the best of times, Pongo was hilarious in his tolerance of 'the working man's game,' perhaps only betrayed by his reference to half-time as 'the interval.' Honksy paused applying her lipstick and replied like a true fan, 'this is a football match mate, you're not at La Traviata now.' Pongo didn't redeem himself when I asked if he ever played for his school, in a sporting capacity.
He represented his house at bridge.
Who would have thought that for all the high-jinks, the humbling heroes and pantomime villains (Gennaro Gattuso), the greatest antidote to a shit day came not in the form of a win, but a night in the pub with my friends. We walked home in the style of the Monkees.
Like I said; life takes us in strange directions.
Your loving friend,
Action Squid
No comments:
Post a Comment