I return from my holidays

Zigzagging, down the hill from the Village Pub.

A line of Sunday afternoon traffic passes in the opposite direction. They are holidaymakers, who have to go home. But I do not – I can stay here!!! “Yah boo!” I shout, in my head, so that nobody stops their car and gets out and hits me.

I always have mixed feelings about drinking at lunchtime – even on a Sunday. On one hand, I do not like the way that lunchtime drinking uses up the entire day. On the other hand, it involves drinking, and lunchtime, two of my favourite things. I had tucked into the free bar sandwiches with gusto, until they had hardened off beyond reasonable human consumption.

My other problem is that I am always able to haul myself away from the pub after a few drinks in the evening, as they close it. Nowadays, pubs are able to stay open all afternoon, so there is not this safety net available for the lunchtime drunk. Gordon Brown should investigate this and perhaps take action. It will surely make him more popular than he is now.

Eddie left early and morosely, having agreed to attend a local event in the afternoon. Len the Fish remained until his dogg had had his fill of sandwiches; Short Tony stayed for just another half as I lumbered from the double-doors.

I have enjoyed my week of doing nothing in particular except eating and drinking and not looking at the PC screen. I resolve not to go to sleep as I arrive back at the cottage – it would waste the rest of this sunny day. Ten minutes later, Mrs Short Tony pops round. I accept her invitation and head next door with a bottle of wine.

The sun is shining and I am very relaxed and chilled out. It makes for rubbish comedy, but life is good.

15 Comments

  1. Our loss is your gain – although you’ll have to do something implausibly comical this week or you’ll begin to lose your loyal readership, Jonny.

  2. 2nd person to comment! 2nd person to comment! wow! Well it’s hardly http://www.dooce.com where such an achievement would get me at least 300 blog hits or an embarrassing appearance on day time telly but this will do. I suppose everyone else is watching the footie. Don’t worry about the dire comedy, if you are a writer for television they won’t even notice. As for the lunchtime drinking yep definitely decadent but if you can’t let go on your holidays when can you? Dare I sign off Julesritter.com? Pat informs me you have taken off the thingymajigg that direct links me, surely a mistake?

  3. That sounds absolutely lovely.

    You should set up a service for get-that-guy-out-of-the-pub-in-a-classy-and-non-embarrassing-way. You simply hire a few good looking girls, who get paid by your customers (or yourself) to walk into the pub, whisper something in your ear and take you home (your home, not theirs, goodbyes on the porch, no kissing). Might end up with having to do some damage control, but admit it, you would leave the pub and your friends would all be dead impressed.

  4. Typical Jonny.
    Blame the ‘nanny’ state for his lack of self discipline. – perhaps Gord could lock you up for 42 days!

  5. >I had tucked into the free bar sandwiches with gusto, until they had hardened off beyond reasonable human consumption.

    which would, therefore, I’m assuming, have slowed YOU down not a whit!

  6. I love lunchtime drinking. It merges so splendidly with the afternoon bottle of wine, the pre-prandial gin and tonic and the dinnertime bottle of wine. It makes sure you pace yourself and never actually get drunk, so is awfully civilised and relaxing.

  7. Thingamajigg?!? I honestly have not got a clue about what of which you speak.

    Yes, I think Z, that my problem is not with the lunchtime drinking thing, but it is with the lunchtime stopping drinking thing. As soon as you stop you sort of go to sleep and get a headache.

  8. Drinking at dinner-time is fab! I don’t like the 5 o’clock mini-hangover though, but a good solution is more alcohol.

    Mine’s a large one!

  9. We don’t always clamour for humour. Just mostly. Hurry back. x, c

  10. Lunchtime drinking is frowned upon by some? Well then, I won’t invite the frowners to join me, the prigs.

  11. Aah – what a rural idyll of idleness, Jonny! Your unsteady homeward steps in the twilight sound like something out of a John Major speech. And every bit as colourful. I doubt very much that anyone would actually get out of their car to hit you, tho’. Not when they could just run you over. And then reverse over you a few times.

    Your giggling bourgeois binging may not be terribly funny to the outside observer, but one can always hope for better things from the hangover. As for me, my money’s on some disgusting intestinal parasite lurking in the aged sandwiches that has you dragging your butt across the carpet like a wormy dogg. Now that’s comedy…

  12. Dogs are so stupid. Why have they not evolved some kind of itchy arse scratching appendage to save on their owner’s carpet expenses? Especially in this age of Ikea inspired laminated flooring.

    Have you laminated your rural hideaway Jonny or do you have plenty of carpet for the arse dragging episode described above?

  13. Jonny – in case you’ve missed it – you’re so vague sometimes – you are in Peach’s book – hence congrats!
    That’s ‘You’re not the only one’ in aid of War Children

  14. NAGA - Is On Holiday

  15. “Short Tony stayed for just another half”

    “Ten minutes later, Mrs Short Tony pops round. I accept her invitation and head next door with a bottle of wine.”

    “The sun is shining and I am very relaxed and chilled out.”

    You just better hope and pray that neither the LTLP or Short Tony read this…

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