| The Warky Lg 1 Report: Why I've even been out walkin' (H) 13:12 - Aug 16 with 924 views | Warkystache |
Mid August. A second week back in the office, with all it entails. An unexpected early finish on Friday (meeting ended at 1pm because one of the major contributors couldn't get his Skype link to work so emailed his presentation to us) meant I was home by four. Walkies.
I spent Tuesday night out with the Wolves fans in a pub in deepest Brum, watching their quarter-final v Sevilla. Invited by the Wolves to watch their undoubted triumph in Europe, a semi with Man United on the cards and a long(ish) spell of over-confidence which was similar to a die-hard Town fan on the morning of a derby game. A cheap hotel down the Hagley Road on my credit card (£42 for B&B). I get on best with the Wolves and Villa fans in the office. Even though I'm not a supporter of either.
The pub we chose was a bit like Isaacs in Ipswich. Newish looking, pine bars and the bogs were clean and smelt nice, big tellies outside moulded into wooden cases, good views, the draught beers were reassuringly expensive. No harbour, natch. No Ipswich-shirted brethren. The food was similar, sort of plasticky American remix, ribs, chicken in red plastic baskets with pub-logos on the greaseproof paper, burgers that towered and fell to pieces in the hand. Fries were skin-on and resembled kindling.
The joshing started with the first pint, although Wolves are now so far removed from League One, it lacked the clarity and bite of the Coventry or Brum pisstake. Mostly it was about Mick. Wolves fans are like elephants when Mick is mentioned. "Still, we've moved on a lot since then" said one to me, which was depressing, as we haven't yet. Sure, new manager and that, but he's worse. They sympathised. They'd suffered from lambert as well, a pustular tropical disease. "'E was shoite" was the general opinion. On a scale of 1-10, Lambert was lower than Solbakken, the bloke whose Copenhagen side were narrowly brushed aside by Man U. "Was 'opin' we'd draw them cos Stale couldn't manage my kids" said one, bitterly.
Anyway, the game was awful. The God Jiminez missed a penno early, which saw the remains of gnawed chicken bones and red plastic baskets jettisoned onto the floor in frustration. Then Wolves did an Ipswich and retreated to defend, mostly, playing the odd little sideways and back passes that Skuse does so well. When Seville finally scored, no-one was surprised. A few walked away in frustration. We all left on the final whistle, to find a less unlucky pub to share their grievances and their pain. We stayed for one or two. They had to get home to Wolverhampton. I walked the long way back to the hotel.
Breakfast was good. The fresh orange juice icy, the fried eggs on pieces of fried bread fresh and runny, the fruit sweet. I was paid and packed by eight and drove back to the office to park and work. It was sweltering even by then.
So to Friday and my early release. I went for a local walk, round the coast on the sea wall from Manningtree to Mistley, stopping at the Thorn for a well-earned pint on the way back. No texts from Terry all week, which was a relief as he'd already booked the Thai for last night and was bringing the wife with him, her first outing with the lads this year. It was just the three of us in the end.
"Orlright?" said Tel as I exited the cab outside the restaurant to find him and her waiting. They arrived just before me, but hadn't gone in as they were looking in the window of a shut antiques shop nearby. Why they were doing this defeated me. They have no interest in antiques; to Tel they're just expensive white elephants. "Can't beat summink noo" he once said when I was trying to explain the allure of owning something really old.
As it turned out, it was my turn to pay, so they'd seen I wasn't in yet and decided to wait for me. I snickered at their politeness. Tel would've probably demolished a slew of beers and starters in the ten minutes between our arrivals. Mrs Tel obviously had a civilising effect.
We went in and ordered starters and beer for me and him and a large Coke for Mrs Tel, with ice and lemon slice, as she was driving us home after. She sipped the Coke with abandon. It was a warm night. Close. It had gone after five minutes so I ordered her another. "Thanks luv" she smiled at me. I wanted to say 'don't be shy, order what you like when you like, it's only Coke'. But then Tel drained his glass and asked the waiter for another as he was dispensing hers. Then I asked for another. Then we all relaxed.
"Tone's got problems" said Tel, conversationally, one eye on Mrs Tel just in case he said the wrong thing or too much. "'Is ground workers 'ave all bin poached by a firm in Wi'ham to do a long-term job". He grimaced and ate another thai cracker. "'e's go two jobs on next munf so 'e needs a plasterer an' a brickie, well, I've done a bit of plasterin' before now so ah've agreed to 'elp 'im". The fatuous smile that said he'd granted a favour and was going to be earning from it came easily. He has done plastering at home, granted, but I wondered if his DIY would be suitable for a professional builder? He smiled. "Iss plasterin' wiv boards'n'that. Won't be 'ard. Jus' gettin' 'em up and fill-ins, that sort of fing".
What about his night job? "Ah well, sorta knockin' it on the 'ead come next week. Troof is, iss borin'. Too much travel, wife never saw me.." (here a flicker of a smile crossed Mrs Tel's face, unseen by him) "an' ter be 'onest, I quit on Thursdy when they told me they were reviewin' me contract. Don' wanna be workin' there beyond August. Pay's rubbish. They're still taxing me on the 'ole emergency rate".
So that's the end of Sainsbury's. I did wonder how long it would last. I also wonder how long he'll last working with his brother-in-law. Not long would be my guess. Not if he proves as truculent with Tony as he has with all his other jobs, bar the newsagents which he owned. This could be dangerous. It could mean the beginning of the end of his matey relationship with Tony and Sandy. I said this to Mrs Tel as we stood on the pavement having a cigarette and she laughed and said "'E don' report to Tone direct, 'e reports ter 'is site manager an' 'e can do the job standin' on 'is 'ead. Issa relief fer me. No more stoopid night workin', an' 'e's only likely to be workin' for a few weeks anyway. We can go on 'oliday then". She sighed and inhaled more smoke.
We ate. It was good. Better than Tuesday, although it cost me more. Still, plenty of money in the old bank balance from months of home working. I've got an easy couple of weeks til payday. Tel's not available next weekend so we're meeting on Friday night in the pub. "Away at Braintree wiv Tone an' Sandy and the kids" he said through a mouthful of his dessert.
We left at eleven, sated with food and beer and brandy and driven by Mrs Tel with me in the back and Tel in the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio until he found one playing "It's my Life" by Talk Talk, which he then loudly sang along to. They dropped me at home. I nearly fell out of their SUV. Embarrassingly, Tel pointed it out loudly. "Don' 'ave a trip!!" he shouted. "Yer'll be in quarantine for two weeks a'rter".
They drove off, music still blaring, although by now it had changed to 'Move Closer' by Phyllis Nelson. I imagined him singing along to that. The mind boggled. Perhaps they'd make love when they got home? The mental images popped in and stayed in, try as I might to eradicate them. Even the snooker highlights couldn't do that. Vaguely ashamed of myself, I drank more whisky and fought the temptation down to play miserable, bluesy music to lose myself in. I lost. It was a bit of Blind Melon.
I had another brisk walk this morning. Got back at eleven. Brisk it was. Good and brisk. |  |
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| The Warky Lg 1 Report: Why I've even been out walkin' (H) on 14:17 - Aug 16 with 851 views | Ace_High1 |
Great read as always, find myself looking forward to hearing the latest on Tel and his semi-retirement each week.
I used to work for a company which had an office in Birmingham. Used to go in there a couple of times a week. Strange mix of Villa, Albion and Blues fans. Fortunately that was a few years ago when we were not as rubbish. |  | | |
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