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March 2, 2003

BIRMINGHAM WEEKEND

This weekend, Mark R and I got our hands on a brand new Renault New Megane Sports Hatch Dynamique 1.9dCi 120bhp automobile complete with panoramic sunroof, luxury pack and satellite navigation system, and sped our way up the M40 to Birmingham for the weekend to celebrate his birthday.

Friday night was the warm up night. It consisted of a few people getting together for a couple of sociable beers before really going hell for leather on the Saturday. It didn't quite work out that way. In the excitement and spirit of the occasion, Mark and I ended up in a seedy nightclub and almost got into a fight. Twice.

The first occasion, after several Carlings and even more Stellas ("Carling, two pints thereof", "four of your most resplendent Carlings please, my good man"), we spied the presence of a long-haired man with a striking resemblance to Rik Mayall. "I'm going to go and tell him" Mark announced, and before I could voice a hint of caution, he was off in the direction of Mayall. "Has anyone ever told you that you are the spitting image of Rik Mayall?" Mark said, sparking up a potentially lethal conversation with a complete stranger. "Has anybody ever told you that I am a professional boxer?" came the reply. Mark was on the back foot and becoming more and more uneasy, "ah, by that I suppose you mean 'f*ck off'?". "Yes". By this point, I was off over the other side of the club, hastily finishing off my pint and hurriedly putting on my coat the wrong way round. Mayall was obviously not impressed and Mark turned to leave, but as he did so, the man grabbed him on the shoulder and said "well, semi-professional". Without considering the potential consequences and with a total disregard for the concept of 'think before you speak', Mark retorted "oh, so you're an AMATEUR?" The man went red with anger, fury swelling in his bulging eyes and he really did look like he was going to explode.

We made a rapid exit and, disappointed by the closure and consequent vanishing of the burger van, we headed for home. We took a walk past Mark's rather grand old school with its monasterial buildings and prim grounds set back from the road.

Suddenly, on the other side of the road, a young man appeared bearing gifts. He was laden with wrapped presents and was simply minding his own business.

"Oooooh, I wonder what he's got" Mark announced, at which point the chap crossed the road, marched straight up to Mark and went eyeball to eyeball with him, with just the presents separating them.

"Yaow fookin wot?" the lout said, in his very best colloquial accent.
"I was simply wondering what you had in those boxes" Mark replied, bemused by such an aggressive response.
"Iss now fookin bizniss ov yawurs" came the reply.
"Is it your birthday?"
"Aye"
"Happy birthday", Mark said, which riled the young roustabout even more.
"Oi fookin rickognyze yaow" he said, trying to point aggressively at Mark but succeeding in only rattling his sparkly boxes. "Yaow wint to fookin Reddhyl skooal dint yaow, oi fookin nyew oi rickognyzed yaow, watt skooal did yaow gaow to?" he said, giving his own answer then asking the question.
"Actually I went THERE" Mark retorted and pointed suggestively at the splendour of his former school.
"YAOW FOOKIN POOF!" the yob shrieked "YAOW FOOKIN POOF".
"oh just go away" Mark said to the ill-educated imbecile, at which point the rather amusing conversation ended and we all went our own merry ways, although minutes later we could still hear him screeching "YAOW FOOKIN POOF, YAOW FOOKIN POOF" and could only imagine the presents rattling as he vibrated with petulence.

On Saturday night we just got very pissed.

Posted by jonola14 at March 2, 2003 12:12 PM

Posted by: Shifty at March 3, 2003 10:23 AM

Posted by: Jac at March 4, 2003 3:22 PM

Posted by: Wibbler at March 4, 2003 10:26 PM

Posted by: Shifty at March 5, 2003 11:33 AM

Posted by: Jac at May 25, 2003 10:17 AM