The Rev Jack's Diary
Created | Updated Jun 4, 2008
Flat-bottomed Clouds
I was flat on my back, sort of snoozing in the warm spring sunshine on the common, waiting for the pub to open, with the dogs (God Bless 'um). They were being themselves, apparently up to no good as only dogs (God Bless 'um) can do; well bugger it, it's spring time and the days are getting longer, so reluctantly I call them off from chasing squirrels and the odd tourist or two, barking at each other (really loudly) and breaking wind. I enjoy their company; it's the only affection I get now after some 15 years living with the same woman, in the same house, in the same village.
I sit up, the dogs (God Bless 'um) plough into me, knocking me back to the ground with some force; at the same time I have a wet nose shoved into my right ear. We start to tag-fight, as only a dog owner knows how to do with his dogs (God Bless 'um)! Five minutes later we're all finished, and I notice the pub is now open. So we're off, heading towards the back bar, for a pint and a pickled egg, to smell the wood fire burning and to see my mates. I walk in, Ally is already serving someone and by her right hand is a pint and an egg all ready for me, I pick them up and take them over to my table. Well it's not really my very own table, but it's the one I like to sit at most, I can see through the pub into the other bar and also out the window to the common. The dogs (God Bless 'um) hog the fire!
I have to wait for about an hour before Two Watches arrives. He looks flustered, and as it's a Tuesday, that's strange. 'Something wrong?' I say. 'Yea well, no, well, could be' he replied. 'Hey Ally get the bloke a pint' I say to Ally. 'You ain't paid for the last one, or the egg, either', she retorts. I give Two Watches a tenner and he goes to the bar. 'Ultimatums, bloody ultimatums, that's all you get' he says. I give him a quizzical look. 'Women!' he hisses. 'Ahh', I say and then, trying to change the subject: 'Les is supposed to be here in a bit, we're planning a sea fishing trip. Do you fancy coming?' 'She wants me to get rid of the dog (God Bless 'um)' he hisses. 'Christ!' I say. 'Yea, it's me or the mutt, she said', says he. 'What did he do to warrant the 'him or me'- treatment?' I ask. 'Fart!' he says. 'Fart?!' I ask. 'Yea, just a fart!' says Two Watches!
Ok! Now I know women are a bit sensitive (Ha), but once again a female being overly sensitive? I am thinking all of this when Two Watches adds some more information. 'on the small of her back', he says, 'we were in bed and Reggie must have got in, under the duvet and done the deed. I didn't even notice when he got up on the bed, either! I was sleeping so deep, the first thing I knew was Abby shouting, then the smell. That's the last time I give Reggie tripe!', 'She has a point', I say.
I am trying hard to stifle my giggles, to no avail. I am on the floor, laughing hard for the next couple of minutes. Les arrives, holding a couple of brochures about sea fishing, then, after scraping himself off the floor because Two Watches retold his dog (God Bless 'um) farting story, Les sits down and sips his pint. 'South coast, I think' says Les, pointing at a picture of a bloke holding up a very large fish. 'You mean we're going to fish for real fish?! And anyway just where are we going to put all the beer, on a pixie fiddler (being polite here) of a boat?' I say. He looks at me, then says: 'We can eat the fish if we catch the fish'. I reply: 'so you actually want us to catch fish? OK, it's a new idea for a blokes' fishing trip, catching fish, but OK, I'm up for it', I say with a smile, and then 'South coast it is then!'
Les smiles and then asks if Two Watches wants to come with us, which over the next three nanoseconds it was thought about and then replied to with a yes! Two Watches is coming fishing! 'That makes five', says Les. Nice, I think, five of us having a giggle away from the 'Eye of Mordor'-gaze! Women have this sort of sight, a sight which gazes deep into the male psyche, and when the males are planning a 'hunting trip' the gaze is even more so, and, apparently, when it's 'spring cleaning time!' It's honed to a fine point! I look out of the pub window. The sun is still there, sunning away. Another five minutes of this and there will be a drought order issued, a hose pipe ban imposed on us all, so I'd better get a round in, just in case!
Cider is marvellous stuff and a drink of philosophers, and like most philosophers, it addles your brain into a pulp, so when chucking-out time arrives, the conversation is about 'the depth1 of the puddle you have to have to get the best tread pattern off your trainers and on the pavement'. The dogs (God Bless 'um) lead the three of us back out onto the common; back into an unsuspecting world. I'm back to sitting in the sun on the common with my mates, half-cut on cider; the smell of diesel from the car park is rank, another coach load of the tourists is disgorged. As is the way of tourists, they spread out like melting ice cream into our village, taking pictures of each other and the houses and back gardens, hence the reason for being on the common, and not in your own garden, because if you are in your own back garden, chances are you'll have a camera shoved up your chuff quicker than you can say cheese. They never come this far on to the common! Two Watches rolls over on to his stomach to have a better look at the tourists. 'They're coming this way, about fourteen of them' he says. 'Crivvens!' I say. Les is just snoring. 'I never noticed Les dropping off', Two Watches says. 'I'd better get the dogs (God Bless 'um) on the lead' I say to Two Watches, but alas it's too late, the thought was later than the deed, and the dogs (God Bless 'um) are off and the game's afoot!
At full speed the blighters are off. They split and, in a perfect arc, they're heading towards the tourists. 'These people are in for a surprise' says Two Watches who, in an instant, is up and running after my dogs (God Bless 'um). Now at this point I would like to say in my defence that I had imbibed only three pints of cider and the small but insignificant double gin. Each of the pints had nothing to do with me failing to get up, with all the requisite grace, and also the ground was ever so slightly uneven, coupled with all of that, my legs didn't work, so over I went, ass over tit. The dogs (God Bless 'um) had by this time split the tourists in half and were well into their second pass. It was then that I noticed the sharp pain in my left hip. Two Watches was chasing and shouting at the dogs (God Bless 'um) who were still having great fun, tearing around the common with Two Watches in tow. Then he reached the point of shouting and swearing and threatening the dogs (God Bless 'um) with violence because he was getting out of breath! They were neither out of breath nor ready to quit the fun yet, so the chase went on!
'I think I've done something to my hip', I say to Les as he wakes up, but he is looking at Two Watches. 'He's quite a mover, is our Two Watches. Last time I saw something move like that, it had an anaesthetic dart hanging out of its ass' says Les. I want to snigger but the pain of my hip is taking my interest. 'Les, I can't move, I fell over trying to get up and I've done something to my hip' I say through some very tight lips. 'Do you think that Two Watches will last out? Your dogs are very fit, they're on their fourth pass now', says Les. 'F&&K IT, LES, JUST CALL FOR THE AMBULANCE, MY BLEEDING LEG IS FACING THE WRONG WAY AND IT BLEEDING HURTS!' I shout at Les, who now has joined us in this time line. He just says 'Bloody Norah!' which either belies his northern roots, or he watches some well-known 'northern' soap on the TV, and at times of stress flips into a character from the said soap. Either way he is on the phone in a flash. Three hours later I am still waiting in the back of the ambulance. Due to a slight oversight, the common is made of grass, not tarmac so 'heavy objects' such as things with a weight and mass of your average ambulance tend on the whole to sink in and get stuck. I don't mind the waiting, I am in safe hands, but also I have 'gas and air' which is quite pleasant to suck on, so while I am waiting, watching Two Watches still playing with the dogs who are still not ready to give up, I can see through of the back doors of the ambulance something really strange: it is a cloud... with a flat bottom... long live gas and air and cider and gin!
