Sunday 18 November 2012

I didn’t really mention anything happening yesterday thanks to my hilarious John Lewis advert script. There were a couple of noteworthy things. Noteworthy may be stretching it a bit.

I was stood watching United on my own¹ in the Lass O’Gowrie so I was unfortunately undistracted by any associates and was forced to listen to the pointless chitter-chatter of people. I really hate people and it is mainly because of the words they say to each other. Two particularly tall chaps stood right in front of me only to really pay no mind to the football, but they had to look like they were because clearly they had some inferiority issues. One of them congratulated the other, saying his Facebook status has summed up the England game perfectly. Part of me really hoped his Facebook status had simply read ‘Sweden 4 – 2 England. All Sweden’s goals were scored by Ibrahimovic – including a ridiculously spectacular fourth, which many are already calling the goal of the season.’ But I’m almost certain it didn’t².

The thing that really annoyed me was the kind of thing that would leave 99% of people completely unaffected. The game was on both a big screen/projector and TVs. The way the pub’s entertainment system was hooked up meant the big screens were on a delay. Some geekish types came in after half-an-hour of the game. One of them observed after they’d been in a while that the big screen was four or five seconds behind. That’s fair, I thought – it is. Unfortunately one of his friends had to attempt an explanation, “One is probably Sky and the other is freeview.”

That was hard to hear. I’d let it go that they were stood near me getting in everyone’s way despite not going to get a drink after ten minutes of being there. I’d ignored the fact that there standing there had made it more frequent that people were brushing me as they walked past…but not knowing the broadcast rights to football? Guessing that the two screens were out of sync because of them being different broadcasters? They were clearly the same feed, on-screen logos told you that. But even aside from that glaringly obvious clue…the game was on ESPN in the UK, not SKY³.

His defence might be that he was referring to the generic broadcast platforms, as in you can get Sky & ESPN channels on Freeview and on Sky. Why would a pub have two different feeds over about 9 TVs/screens? It makes no sense. I thought people who didn’t understand football were meant to be clever. From where I was standing there was little question that this guy was a thick twat.

It wasn’t all terrible though. One guy came in looking for his friends (loser – who has friends? Friends are shit and for loser loner types) and stood in front of people getting in their way scanning for his compadres. After a couple of minutes he phoned them. Turned out they were in ‘the place next door’. “OK, I’ll see you in JOSHUA JACKSON’S in two minutes then.” Will you mate? Will you see them in a bar named after the Dawson Creek (on purpose not a typo) star? Is it a bar decked with pictures of Pacey? Cocktails with a Fringe theme. And vague references to to the films Urban Legend and Cruel Intentions and the opening bit of Ocean’s 11? (Yeah, I didn’t have to look on IMDB for any of that, I am a JJ fan) No, because it’s called Joshua Brooks isn’t it you fucking cloth-head. Popular culture has made a mockery of your ability to differentiate between a Manchester bar and one of Hollywood’s leading actors (he definitely is), you idiot.

Unless they were meeting in the gut of the star of Gossip, Joshua Jackson. Lucky bastards. I would love to spend some time in the hollowed out torso of the star of D2: The Mighty Ducks – Joshua Jackson.

¹While it would be a stretch of the truth to describe me as a hopeless drunk who stands drinking on his own it would not be wholly unaccurate if you broke it down and and looked at each part of the phrase. I certainly think ‘drunk’ is a nicer word than ‘alcoholic’. There is something clinical and terribly modern and celebrity and ‘alcoholic’. Alcoholics are 19-year-old who are in boy bands who party a lot and get tired and sad after over-doing it. Or middle-aged people who function on a bottle of brandy-an-hour but people turn a blind eye to it. There is something altogether charming about the notion of a drunk.

“Oh he’s shit all over his own chest and set fire to a settee by falling asleep with a cigarette in his hand.”
“That’s a disgrace, he should be killed by a firing squad.”
“Oh no, he didn’t mean it – he’s a drunk, he just had seven too many when he was babysitting for his friends. He feels terrible about their children perishing in the fire. Bloody Phil the Drunk!”
“Oh it was Phil, why didn’t you say? He’s a lovable drunk. I suppose they will all laugh about it in a few weeks.”

And I was just waiting for someone who was awkward enough to want to meet at a time that meant I pretty much had to go out hour earlier than the rendez-vous time to enable me to watch the game. So, whatever.

² ‘Fucking poor England’ or ‘They’re getting worse – not better!’ or ‘Hodgson is shit’ are my three guesses at what his status said.

³Admittedly this was actually a hooky foreign feed – but this only heightens the lad’s misdemeanor in my book.

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