I ride the metro. A game of the footy has just finished. I wouldn’t normally be able to tell such a fact, but there are many red scarfs and scarlet cheeks and burst blood vessels in my compatriots’ noses. I am glad they have had a good time.
I wish they knew their time was over. Instead, they are still chanting, “ole ole ole!”
I think they have mistaken the moving ‘tro for the athletes running up and down the pitch.
I remember, with a touch of shame, returning home from the engagement party for Wer&Wif. We ride as four (well, three): Wer&Wif, me, and Good-Ol’-Abe.
Good-Ol’-Abe is a great friend of ours, but for whatever reason has not been mentioned too much in this blog. Usually because we do not do things with Good-Ol’-Abe that I’d like my grandmother to read, and I don’t know how many people my mother’s told about this blog.
I’m not too sure I’d like to have my Mom read the things we’ve done with Good-ol’-Abe. Primarily Trivia. Yup. Trivia. And random walks into South Mill Pond (the bathtub smelt of Sea for quite a long while…) And I’m still waiting for that youtube video the man at Gilley’s promised us.
Well. Anyway. We ride as four/three. Sometimes I can’t tell with the singularity. They comment separately, though, so I suppose we are four. Poor Wif i driving, and hadn’t drunk. Wer had been on company behavior (wanting to put on a good show for the in-laws-to-be) and Good-Ol’-Abe and I had done the “I-will-chug-this-beer-because-I-feel-slightly-awkward-and-I’m-a-groomsman-to-be-so-you-think-nothing-better-of-me.”
This might be a slight exaggeration. We seemed to be a big hit with the various friends and family members. The appetizers they had all prepared were definitely big hits with me.
We ride as four. Suddenly Good-Ol’-Abe and I think it will be a great time to screech the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of our lungs. Except we can’t quite remember how to finish the second verse, so we keep looping around. Finally we make it through, and there’s a brief musical interlude that we are humming under our breaths.
“Guys, I don’t want to be mean, but could you…please…” Wif is very nice, but very clear.
We are quiet for a little while.
We ride as four across the NH border.
“Oh mamma mia let me go,” says Good-Ol’-Abe.
“BEELZEBUB HAS A DEVIL PUT ASIDE FOR MEEEEEEEE…”
Oh, poor Wif. We continue to ride.
1 month ago