Rolling back the years in a stretched Hummer

My first ride in a stretch Hummer. I haven’t lived, I now realise. The prodigious, ridiculous thing, tricked out in multicoloured neon piping, drew up outside the pub where we were getting stoked. I was privileged to be invited by Trev to his niece’s 18th birthday celebration in a nightclub. It was very much a family affair and they are a proud family. ‘Who the fuck is that?’ I kept hearing from the younger, micro-skirted, six-inch-heeled element, in disgusted tones, referring to me, and Trev would do his best to explain me to them.

Trev thought a ‘punch-up’ inevitable when we got to the club. The women were as liable to start one as the men, in his opinion. I looked around at the state of play as we waited to climb aboard the limo. One of the young nephews was already being strenuously argued out of having a warm-up fight with some innocent and surprised-looking person not of our party.