| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) 12:29 - Jan 1 with 1136 views | Warkystache |
I've never liked New Year's Eve.
All that Scottish thing of Hogmanay, with people getting hammered and bits of coal, never got it. I once spent December 31st in Edinburgh, courtesy of some girl I was hopeful of (and which never happened because I couldn't understand more than two words in ten that she uttered, and constant 'eh?'s aren't a good precursor to sexual intimacy). I ended up drunk at some party thrown by some friend of an acquaintance of a friend, where everyone flecked me in spittle through just engaging in conversation and I slept on a coconut-weave doormat near the front door, despite having a perfectly good hotel room. Never since has the word 'Sassanach' been so widely banded and sounded such an insult.
In recent years, New Year's Eve has been the signal to remove Christmas decorations. It's also bidden some of the worse hangovers ever experienced; proper, skull-splitting efforts, Geoff Capes ripping my head like a copy of the phone book, Gemma Collins trying to kickstart a truculent Norton in four foot of cold rice pud in the old guts.
The 1999/Millenia celebrations saw me partying with friends in Clacton. We were being tormented by doomsayers about the effects of the millennium bug on ATM's so I circumvented this by having £500 in cash on me for taxis. How I escaped a good mugging, christ alone knows. In some ways, I was mugged, because friends who were a bit skint suddenly stuck to me like barnacles on a ship, the 'lend us a tenner mate' brigade becoming my shadow for the evening. We drank cheap beer and shorts, ate takeaway pizza and then, later, did a good, if not novel, approximation of the pizza we'd eaten on the pavement outside.
The 2020 'celebrations' were supposed to be at a friend's in Colchester, only she came down with a hefty head cold and, such being the fear in Tier 4, cancelled 'just in case' on Wednesday morning. So, worried not, I stocked up on a nice cardboard box of a Chilean Pinot Noir and a bottle of aged Glenlivet and reached for a glass yesterday afternoon, following a chilly, frosty walk in the nearby woods. The Terries were in Braintree. Or so I thought...
By four, the night was crawling rapidly and I'd enjoyed four glasses of the red. Then the phone went. Expecting my mum's dulcet tones from my Auntie Gina's, probably with a restorative glass of Bailey's clutched in her left hand and the sound of my uncle moaning about Brexit in the background, it came as a shock to hear the gruff London growl of Tel. "Wotcher mate, lissen, we aint gone ter Braintree arter all, summing about me neffew 'avin' a cold an' earache so we din't wanna take a chance'n that. So I wondered....(here he broke off to answer, presumably, Mrs Tel who muttered something. 'Yeah 'e's 'ome'n'all' I heard him say to her)..if I might nip rand ter see the noo year in wiv yer? Missus won't be cumming (the mind boggled) 'cos she's in 'er jim jams ready ter watch a bit'o'telly, so I'll get 'er to drop me an' I'll sleep rand yours if it's OK?".
I made a quick mental note of the booze I'd got left. I told him we'd need any more he had lying around and he said, a bit quickly, "yeah, fought of all that, got two bottles of champers untouched from Boxing Day plus three of them bottles of white you bought and a pack of Miguels". I went food shopping on Wednesday morning so had ready-made curries, naans and indian snacks. "Lovely" he said, more animatedly. Then it was a done deal. He'd be coming at five. "She'll chuck a pair of jeans on or summink, drive me over. She's 'avin' a night on the old Coke so she'll be fine to drive me back tomorrow". He rang off.
He arrived at five thirty, clutching bags and awkwardly getting out of the passenger seat being careful not to drop any. I helped him in and gave Mrs Tel a peck on the cheek and wished her a Happy New Year. I also gave her the last eight in my packet of fags, safe in the knowledge I had forty more indoors. She smiled and accepted them, gratefully. I had images of her fogging out her front room during Eastenders or whatever it was she was watching. "Doin' The Crown on Netflix, 'e 'ates it but's'only chance I get" she said conspiratorially.
She drove off. I went inside to find Tel stacking bottles on my kitchen table. I'd managed a partial tidy up so at least he wasn't inspecting surfaces for dirt. We put the already icy champers in my fridge and had an ice-cold beer apiece. "Kept 'em on the patio larse night" said Tel. "Fought they might've froze solid this mornin'" Clearly not. They were eminently gluggable.
We sat chatting at the kitchen table. He was talking about Tony and Sandy. "Din't fancy Noo Year round there anyway" he said. "She's gone vegan wiv the kids, so it'd be all veggie bakes and nuts'n stuff. Start the noo year wiv gut rot, lovely. Tone's still a committed meat eater, but it's 'ard fer 'im ter get a bit'o'steak in when 'e's gotta cook the bleeder 'imself, so I don' reckon 'e's that committed". He took a long swallow of beer. "Nah, definitely Maccy D's and the odd KFC I reckon. 'E told me 'e brings 'ome kebabs and stuff, eats it in the kitchen so they're none the wiser. Wot a way ter live".
We drank more beer and opened one of the champers. "Leave the ovver one fer Midnight, like" said Tel, reading my mind. I heated the food and we ate about six thirty. We talked more, then I found my playing cards and we resumed the game of poker. I keep about thirty quid in loose change in an old sweet tin in my kitchen draw, sort of parking money and spare change for stuff. He gave me a ten pound note and I gave him ten ones back. It was a war of attrition. I won, he won, I won again, he won again. By eight-thirty we both still had a tenner. "Bleedin' unlucky that was" he muttered at his last hand.
We broke off at nine for Irish coffees. Now, I know using malt whisky in an Irish coffee is a terrible waste, and long may it cause me sufferance, but it tasted lovely. I did the fresh cream on the back of the spoon so it looked like a Guinness. Tel drank deeply and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said "mmmm, why din't yer tell me yer could make these? My fav'rite drink after a meal, apart from brandy". I made another round, and then a round of brandy coffees. It kept the chill out. We drank brandy after this. Conversation became slurred.
I showed Tel my sofa-bed at eleven, pulling it all out to show him how it worked, just in case I decided to kip on my front door mat again once we'd seen in 2021. "Nice" he spluttered. "Aint time fer bed yet though. Nice cushions" he added, eyeing the ones I bought in John Lewis with some of my bet winnings.
We played Dub's 80's playlist on my laptop, linking it to my stereo. Many thanks to Dubs. Cheers Pete. "Oo's this?" asked Tel, trying to look at TWTD on my laptop. I lurched over quickly before he made it and pretended to turn it up, getting rid of the TWTD site so it left the Mixer site open. "Pete 'oo?" said Tel, reading the site. Then, "bleedin' beard on that. Looks like a hillbilly, that sod. Still, wotta taste in music the boy's got. An' them changes. I ain't 'eard that Nick Kershaw one fer years. He danced like it was the '80's again. Hopping from one leg to the other. "Gotta lissen to this again, wife'll love it". He tried keying the website into his mobile, sat bent on the arm of my settee like a hovering kestrel. In the end, I did it for him. One more listener, Dubs, potentially two. Tel reckons your patter's perfect as well. "Don' bleedin' bore us ter deaf wiv talkin', jus' play the music".
Midnight happened. We hugged drunkenly and wished for a better 2021, one where we can meet in the pub and watch a game of footy. We drank on. And on. Suddenly it was two am. Tel stifled a drunken yawn and went for a piss. Then he crashed full length on my sofa bed, without bothering to open it. I covered him in blankets and left him.
Woke at 6.30am to the smell of burning toast. Shoved my jeans and sweatshirt on, came downstairs. Fog of burnt toast and kettle steam. Still, he'd tidied up. All the empties were in the bin, the washing up done and he'd neatly folded the blankets on the edge of the sofa bed. He stood munching toast and marmalade, a big pot of tea steaming. I joined him in a cup, too mullered to eat. "Should eat summink" he said through a full mouth. I marvelled, not for the first time at his constitution. Once a newsagent, always a newsagent. He'd probably consider that he'd slept in.
Mrs Tel hooted outside at nine after he called her, and he left, thanking me for a new year's eve well spent. We did a party in the pub last year, he reminded me. I felt scarcely less hungover then as well.
Mrs Tel looked fresh. "Get sum kip love" she said as I greeted her, hair wild, breath probably killer. Tel found Dub's radio station on his phone and then bluetoothed it to the car digital system. The familiar tones of Grange Hill echoed round the neighbourhood. "Lissen ter this!" Tel said to her. She started grooving in her seat as The Smiths took over. Then they were away, waves and hand kisses from her, a sheepish, sickly grin from him.
I'm thinking of going back to bed in a mo. Still, plenty of time for all that. Tomorrow's Saturday after all. But that's my Christmas reports done for another year. Happy 2021 folks. See you soon.
Warky
January 2021.
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| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 12:49 - Jan 1 with 1076 views | Warkystache |
Sh*t it's Paul! Sorry Dubs - great playlist for NYE though!! | |
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| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 20:29 - Jan 2 with 782 views | MillsyVOR |
Reasonable to say... Outstanding, Warky!!! ðŸ‘ðŸ‘👠|  | | |
| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 20:44 - Jan 2 with 753 views | vapour_trail |
Ha ha. Think dubtractor ascends to twtd legendary status on the back of being labelled a hillbilly by Tel.
HNY, warkers. |  |
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| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 19:54 - Jan 3 with 582 views | Dubtractor |
Lovely stuff Warky, and glad you both enjoyed the mix!
I've been called much worse than hillbilly, and in fairness I do increasingly look like a stunt double for ZZ Top so it is a fair call. |  |
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| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 08:26 - Jan 4 with 500 views | witchdoctor |
brill mate..HNY! |  | | |
| The Warky League 1 Report: New Year (H) on 09:17 - Jan 4 with 474 views | NewcyBlue |
Sat here in Santos, Brazil reading that.
Absolutely brilliant! |  |
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