Trevor offered his assistance.
Yeah, them things.
Said the waiter, who Sandy didn’t realise was by his side.
A tablet, sir?
The waiter placed the fresh glass brandy on the small table between the men, while bewildering Sandy with his point.
It’s a bit early for that, mate, I’ll just have another brandy.
No worries, sir.
The waiter grimaced, noted the new order and walked away, shaking his head. Sandy set aside his confusion, and, without losing pace or passion, continued his complaint.
You’ll be up there doing your thing and all of a sudden someone’s head will light up in front of ya – like they’ve just been called upon by God. Time was, it was good, ya know? It’d give ya the chance to humiliate the disrespectful bastards – Tearing into some rude cunt fiddling with themselves, it used to be fun. But these days, there’s so many doing it you’d never get the chance to get to ya material. I bet ya, by tomorrow that at one-armed prick will be crying to all his other one-armed mates about my lack of sensitivity or whatever – I bet that’s what he says: “lack of sensitivity”. That’s the sort of