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Wellington
once said that to write the history of the battle of waterloo was
pointless, " you might as well try writing the history of a dance"
Well here goes nothing!
Its` Monday afternoon and I still feel rough! What a good do, I had
got to Hooky's` at about quarter to five on Saturday afternoon along
with a couple of essential purchases on route, namely two dozen bottles
of Becks beer and a box of extra strength ibuprofen, after a bear
hug greeting from Clive I popped a couple of beers and began the hellos,
Eddy boy, Aidan, Jo Bob, Ced, Lynn, Ken, Mick Booth, JC and a welcome
return to Pete. |
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A good
starting line-up poor old Scotty couldn't make it though, his mum
was sick, so with the rest of us present and correct we set off
for the boozer, it was six twenty, and after all we didn't want
to be late did we! It's only a five-minute walk to the pub from
Hooky's; Eddy and Pete were already in the pub sinking the first
of many. As I approached the door my phone went off, it was Lee
wondering where we were? Jesus it wasn't half past six yet, still
I soothed Lee and said we would be with him shortly, as I turned
to go into the pub I was trampled by Hooky and the rest of the boys
leaving the place in high dudgeon, apathetic bar staff apparently!
On to the next one, where we did get a pint, and Lynn kindly pointed
out I had put on weight!
Then on to the main bout, Almost everyone was there sitting around
a vast hastily constructed table and cheering us as we came in the
door, I got myself a beer served by a cheery east end type barmaid
who called me "Darlin" (who said stereotypes are dead.)
and started circulating, well that is I stood by the bar and everyone
else started circulating! Tom and Simon were amused by the web report
specifically the chilli incident, and there was a lot of praise
for Mike for the look of the new website, Lee, Dave and myself had
a warming discussion regarding the wearing of bucktails by new recruits,
and eventually we had to take a drunken company vote because Dave
wouldn't give in! (If you cant persuade them, outrank them!)
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The
buffet was opened with little ceremony, my god it was like the storming
of the Bastille with noshing noises! Being a polite first sergeant
I hung back and let the men gorge themselves, twenty five Bucktails
laying on their backs with their belts loosened three notches later,
there was bugger all left! And to add insult to injury Hooky came
round with a collecting tin like Ned Kelly demanding two pound fifty
each "for the buffet".
There were several mince pies left but they were put to good use
along with six beer mats for a drill class highlighting the necessity
of second sergeants in company drill!
The business part of the evening was the two votes that would decide
the highest accolade a Bucktail can aspire to, Whinger of the year
and Bucktail of the year, and with our usual penchant for organisation
we had forgotten paper, pen and one of the trophies! The charming
landlady was able to help with the first two and we decided the
thought was the important thing for the third!
The two votes were held under the most stringent conditions to prevent
cheating and a totally impartial count was conducted in the back
room of the pub by myself and Lee whilst avoiding several of Crayfords
finest chav`s playing pool!
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I announced
the results from halfway up the stairs to the ladies jobby engine.
Despite several gentle hints in the weeks leading up to the party
and one very definite and unsubtle one in the last letter as to
the favourite for the whinger award, it went to Beau, with JC (who
should have won) second, a tremendous effort for Beau as he missed
half the bloody events this year! Bucktail of the year went to Mike
Simpkin and well deserved it was too, with Hooky a credible second,
what Lee and I found most unsettling was the fact that there were
more spoiled papers than votes for us!
Aidan
at some point in the evening invented a new sport involving a grape
a straw and a colleague, I don't recall if there were any rules
set out or even if it was to be a spectator sport, but I am sure
if you are interested he will be only too willing to bring you up
to speed, I on the other hand was being surprised at the bar by
Carries new hair! Which I said was Shite; thank god it was syrup!
She had made it herself, and a right proper job it was too (nothing
like Dick van Dike in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!).
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By now we were well refreshed, Cookie and Mick Booth appeared to
be brothers separated at birth, Simon and Eddy were almost wrestling
in the snug, Aidan had more grapes and I had too much information!
Much too much information! Thank god for last orders. Back at Hooky's
I started going downhill fast, I vaguely remember sitting in Hooky's
garden and in a chair next to JC as he got in to bed and then nothing
until I woke up next to a neat puddle of vomit at eight in the morning!
Oh dear….
Having
cleaned Hooky's carpet I retired to the living room where there
were more dead Bucktails and after several ibuprofen and a good
slug of lemonade I collapsed again, much to the amusement of those
living. I didn't stay there long; I felt an urgent need to visit
the bottom of Hooky's garden. Some thoughtful soul, using my own
camera recorded the moment for posterity! With people leaving, as
they felt well enough I was able to find a seat in front of the
TV when I returned to the house. With my feet up on the poofe and
my shoes fully visible Hooky knew who had trod dog shit through
his house!
God bless Hooky, once he had erased all evidence of my presence
on the carpet he even cleaned my shoe. And that was how Beau and
Dave found me at midday half hidden under a coat with one shoe on,
last man on the field, bloodied but unbowed!
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