Bored witless, I go into town with no particular intention other than to get out of the house. I think about going to the pub but each one I look in is empty. The streets of the town are empty, the pubs are empty and I’m empty. The only place with any sign of life in it is the British Legion club. Through the first-floor window I can see people with pool cues moving around.
I press the buzzer and am let in. My friend Rick is in there. He’ll have a pint of mild, he says, but he can’t buy me one back. He’s a bit skint at the moment. I offer his friend one as well, but his friend says he’s OK for the moment. The beer is amazingly cheap.
I’ve not seen Rick for over a year and I’ve forgotten what a very great bore he is.
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