- Feb 3, 2024
- LitBits
- 0
The Song of Bert and Harry: The Name of that Pub by Michael James Treacy It wasn't the Banana Arms
“We went for a pub meal last night,” Bert suddenly announced. “Nice place, all done out with lights and a posh carpet. Soft music… not too loud. Polite young waiter served us.”
“Sounds like you had a good time,” Harry replied. “What was it all about?”
“Errr… it was just a night out. We decided to treat ourselves. The missus had chicken korma with rice. She couldn’t chew it very well with her new dentures though, so they chopped the meat up for her. Nothing was too much trouble.”
“That was very good of them. What did you have?”
“I had lamb balti with naan bread. Very nice… not too spicy. I’m not keen on those hot curry dishes… can’t get off the loo the day after.”
“I have the same problem… plays havoc with my bowel movements. Did you have a decent couple of pints?”
“No. She insisted on something special to drink, so we shared a bottle of red wine. I was happy with that. She only had one glass, so I drank the rest.”
“Blimey!” exclaimed Harry. “That must have sent you a bit tiddly.”
“It certainly put a wobble in my step.” Bert chuckled at his own joke.
“Where was this pub then?”
“Errr… can’t remember. I think it was four or five bus stops. Up the town centre, just passed the wotsaname.”
“Not too far then. What was it called?”
“It was… err… can’t remember.”
“Was it the Waddling Duck on Broad Street?”
“No, it wasn’t that one. I can’t go in there anyway… got barred last month.”
“What did you get barred for?”
“I got into a bit of a to-do with Billy Hetherington.”
“Oh, he’s an obnoxious old bugga. What happened?”
“You know I support the Villains and he supports the Blue Noses? Well, he made a disparaging remark about our new striker.”
“You mean that big Norwegian lad?”
“Yes. He said he couldn’t hit a barn door from five yards out.”
“Aw heck. What did you say?”
“I called him a daft plonker, then I jumped up and threatened to punch him on the hooter.”
“You shouldn’t be doing things like that at your age, Bert. What did Billy do?”
“He jumped up and waved his walking stick in the air, then we both stumbled and crashed into a table full of glasses. The lot went flying in all directions.”
“You silly old codgers. What happened then?”
“The gaffer came over and ordered us off the premises, then told us we were barred and to never set foot in his pub again.”
“Aw heck, that was a bit severe. Have you seen Billy since?”
“Yes, we played dominoes at the community centre last Wednesday. He admitted the new striker was a good addition to our squad, and we both agreed to let bygones be bygones. We’re going to pop into the Waddling Duck next week and apologise to the gaffer, and see if he’ll allow us back.”
“That’s good.” Harry nodded his approval. “Now then, Bert, try to remember which pub you and the missus went to last night. Did the name sound similar to something else?”
“It’ll come to me in a minute. I think it only opened a few weeks ago.” Bert’s face was a study in concentration. “Err…what’s the name of that fruit? You know the one I mean… nice taste… nice colour… nice and soft. You see them all over the place.”
“Oh aye, you must mean a banana.”
“No, not a banana… it’s not one of them… not yellow.”
“Are you talking about a pear?”
“No, not a pear… it’s more of a round shape.”
“If it’s a round shape, then it must be an apple.”
“Not as big as that… smaller than an apple.”
“Oh aye, is it a plum or a prune?”
“No, not a prune. Gave me the runs, they did. Nicer taste than a prune.”
“Do you mean a grape?”
“Errr… not a grape… I think it’s got a stone in it.”
“A stone? Is it a cherry?”
“That’s it!” exclaimed Bert. “A cherry! That’s the one I was thinking of.”
“That’s the name of your…” Harry began.
Bert had walked out of the room, into the hallway, and was calling upstairs, “Cherry! What’s the name of that pub we went to last night?”
“You silly old fool,” came the response. “It wasn’t a pub. We went to the Kurry Kingdom up on Main Street.”
#flash fiction #holdays #conversation #old men #sugar
Continue reading...
“Sounds like you had a good time,” Harry replied. “What was it all about?”
“Errr… it was just a night out. We decided to treat ourselves. The missus had chicken korma with rice. She couldn’t chew it very well with her new dentures though, so they chopped the meat up for her. Nothing was too much trouble.”
“That was very good of them. What did you have?”
“I had lamb balti with naan bread. Very nice… not too spicy. I’m not keen on those hot curry dishes… can’t get off the loo the day after.”
“I have the same problem… plays havoc with my bowel movements. Did you have a decent couple of pints?”
“No. She insisted on something special to drink, so we shared a bottle of red wine. I was happy with that. She only had one glass, so I drank the rest.”
“Blimey!” exclaimed Harry. “That must have sent you a bit tiddly.”
“It certainly put a wobble in my step.” Bert chuckled at his own joke.
“Where was this pub then?”
“Errr… can’t remember. I think it was four or five bus stops. Up the town centre, just passed the wotsaname.”
“Not too far then. What was it called?”
“It was… err… can’t remember.”
“Was it the Waddling Duck on Broad Street?”
“No, it wasn’t that one. I can’t go in there anyway… got barred last month.”
“What did you get barred for?”
“I got into a bit of a to-do with Billy Hetherington.”
“Oh, he’s an obnoxious old bugga. What happened?”
“You know I support the Villains and he supports the Blue Noses? Well, he made a disparaging remark about our new striker.”
“You mean that big Norwegian lad?”
“Yes. He said he couldn’t hit a barn door from five yards out.”
“Aw heck. What did you say?”
“I called him a daft plonker, then I jumped up and threatened to punch him on the hooter.”
“You shouldn’t be doing things like that at your age, Bert. What did Billy do?”
“He jumped up and waved his walking stick in the air, then we both stumbled and crashed into a table full of glasses. The lot went flying in all directions.”
“You silly old codgers. What happened then?”
“The gaffer came over and ordered us off the premises, then told us we were barred and to never set foot in his pub again.”
“Aw heck, that was a bit severe. Have you seen Billy since?”
“Yes, we played dominoes at the community centre last Wednesday. He admitted the new striker was a good addition to our squad, and we both agreed to let bygones be bygones. We’re going to pop into the Waddling Duck next week and apologise to the gaffer, and see if he’ll allow us back.”
“That’s good.” Harry nodded his approval. “Now then, Bert, try to remember which pub you and the missus went to last night. Did the name sound similar to something else?”
“It’ll come to me in a minute. I think it only opened a few weeks ago.” Bert’s face was a study in concentration. “Err…what’s the name of that fruit? You know the one I mean… nice taste… nice colour… nice and soft. You see them all over the place.”
“Oh aye, you must mean a banana.”
“No, not a banana… it’s not one of them… not yellow.”
“Are you talking about a pear?”
“No, not a pear… it’s more of a round shape.”
“If it’s a round shape, then it must be an apple.”
“Not as big as that… smaller than an apple.”
“Oh aye, is it a plum or a prune?”
“No, not a prune. Gave me the runs, they did. Nicer taste than a prune.”
“Do you mean a grape?”
“Errr… not a grape… I think it’s got a stone in it.”
“A stone? Is it a cherry?”
“That’s it!” exclaimed Bert. “A cherry! That’s the one I was thinking of.”
“That’s the name of your…” Harry began.
Bert had walked out of the room, into the hallway, and was calling upstairs, “Cherry! What’s the name of that pub we went to last night?”
“You silly old fool,” came the response. “It wasn’t a pub. We went to the Kurry Kingdom up on Main Street.”
#flash fiction #holdays #conversation #old men #sugar
Get the discussion going!
Continue reading...
