It was another damp winter evening when I stepped into the cosy saloon bar, escaping the irritating drizzle. As the frosted glass-paned door swung open my senses were overwhelmed with the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. The usual locals were already in their chosen places. Propping up the bar or sitting huddled around beaten copper tables chatting quietly and supping their pints.
A couple of heads turned towards me, greeting me with nods, whilst the barman took a fresh glass from the rack and looked at me. "Pint?" was all he said.
"Thanks John." I replied and pulled a handful of change from my pocket. My pint of bitter was placed on the bar, the frothy head quickly dissipating, as John took my cash and rang up the sale in the old till. I raised the glass in polite salute to him and turned to seek out my friend.
Edward was sat near one of the fruit machines with a couple of his buddies. He was a man approaching his mid-sixties and we had become friends through work. Being a youngster of only 18 years, some people thought it odd that we mixed, but I genuinely enjoyed his company and that of his older friends to being with people of my age. I loved hearing the stories of their youth and how it was back when they were growing up just after the Second World War. Times were tough then, many had lost their fathers and they were starting work to support their mothers and brothers and sisters. I had it easy. It was 1983 and I had a job, was living in my own bedsit and had no responsibilities.
Edward motioned for me to come and join the group. I knew most of the men, but was introduced to Mike who, it turned out, was a long-time friend of Edward. Mike had recently moved back into town after the death of his mother. Edward proudly mentioned that I had recently passed my driving test and that I would soon be looking for a car. Something he mentioned often when introducing me to his friends as he had kindly given me additional driving lessons in his car to give me extra practice.
I joined in the chatter, giving and receiving banter about the abysmal darts contest the week before and conceded that I probably wasn't going to be picked for the pub team anytime soon. Conversations flowed as did the beers. Towards the end of the evening I was engaged in putting the world to rights with Mike. We had chatted comfortably throughout the evening and hit it off well. The last orders bell rang and reluctantly I pulled on my still damp coat and wandered home. I had work in the morning, so a late session was out of the question.
A couple of evenings later I was back in the pub. It was Friday so there was no work for me in the morning. The windows of the pub were misted up with condensation. It was already busy. I eased open the saloon door as bodies were pressed closely together. Many of the clientele would be moving on to other pubs and clubs shortly as this was one of the bars along "the strip". I waited my turn at the bar and was served a pint of bitter without any questions being asked. I was known as a local and on busy evenings the staff just gave out "the usual" to their regulars. I then stepped back away and cast my eyes around to seek out companionship. Edward was stood by the jukebox, which was drowned out by the level of conversation in the bar. He was on his own, so I manoeuvred my way across the crowded room to greet him.
"Hiya!" I called, as I made my way to him.
"Hello young Jack, how is it in the world of stationery this week?" He asked as I stood beside him.
I laughed and we started chatting. A while later, and as the crowds thinned, we managed to find a table to sit at. It was swimming with spilled beer and the ashtray was full. A new barmaid came around and wiped the table down before returning to empty the overflowing ashtray. Edward asked her, her name and introduced me to her. "Look after this young man, perhaps one day he will be the one to sweep you off your feet!" he said to her. We both blushed with embarrassment. Edward did this to me all the time with every young girl that started to work in the pub. After she left I scowled at him. "What did you do that for?"
"You're 18," He said, "you should be chasing girls not sitting in an old man's bar on a Friday night."
"But I am happy coming here. I like chatting with my friends and don't want to get tied up in relationships yet."
"I know, but one day the time will come, so I'm looking out for you. And she is a pretty girl."
I glanced across the bar. Edward was right, Ruth was an attractive girl. Her tightly permed hair was tied back with a headband just like Kylie Minogue and the loose fitting t-shirt under her dungarees gave a glimpse of a lacy bra. She smiled as she chatted easily to the tall good looking man at the counter. I had no chance with her.
Feeling like a loser, I tried to explain to Edward that I found it difficult to talk to pretty girls. I got all tongue tied and self-conscious. I had still to lose my virginity and being a shy boy who had only moved into the city after leaving a countryside school left me at a disadvantage, as most youngsters had a group of friends from school to hang out with. My own group of school friends were some 30 miles away in a small farming town. It was only through work that I had started to meet people and most of them were older than me, married and with kids of their own. Those that were my age at work had plans every weekend and to be honest I didn't really get on with most of them.
Mike arrived at about 9:30 and joined us. He had been busy talking with his antiques contacts and was setting up some kind of deal. It would involve him trekking down to London during the week, but he was looking forward to staying with some friends there.
We all supped a couple more beers and chatted easily. Edward and Mike made plans to visit the theatre and I mentioned that I may be looking at a second hand car during the week. Edward and Mike both offered to come along with me if I wanted, so that I could have an experienced second opinion.
The last orders bell rang and we said our farewells. I decided to pop into the chip shop on the way back to my bedsit.
Saturday morning bought with it a crisp clear day. I showered and dressed and made my way into the city centre. I planned to visit some record shops and also to get some new jeans. I would also have lunch at the Wimpy bar as a treat. The crowds in town soon built and it wasn't long before I had completed my shopping. I came back home and picked up my Walkman, before bagging up my weekly laundry and made my way to the launderette.
Whilst my washing was being laundered I read the latest copy of my car magazine and daydreamed about driving off into the sunset with a pretty girl in a sports car. A tap on my shoulder shocked me back into the present day. It was Mike.
"I could hear your music blaring from those headphones as I came into the launderette!" He said. "what on earth are you listening to?" I chuckled and shut off my Walkman.
"It's the latest cassette from The Stranglers. I picked it up this morning."
"Oh, they're not like the old bands, you can't hear a word they say and they only know three chords at the most!" He replied jokingly. "Are you out and about tonight?"
"Yes I will be in the bar as usual this evening," I replied "I should be in there from about 8:30 onwards I would think."
"Ok, cool. I will see you tonight then. Catch you later Jack!" With that Mike left the laundrette.
I didn't give it a second thought and carried on with my domestic chores, reading with interest the article on the new generation of the Porsche turbo.
Later that evening I walked the short distance from my bedsit to the pub. My new jeans fitted tightly and felt good. The bar was quieter then the night before and I found an empty table in the saloon bar. Whilst waiting for my friends to arrive I continued to read my car magazine.
About ten minutes after I had settled, Mike arrived and joined me. He was dressed more casually than usual, in a pair of faded jeans and a shirt. A large and prominent cravat was tied loosely and tucked into his open necked shirt.
