tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109148405669867264.post1268218027944086146..comments2023-10-31T06:23:26.747-07:00Comments on TJ and Rita's World: style and voiceRita Webbhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15705211010768041660noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109148405669867264.post-9426052639811737892009-04-17T14:01:00.000-07:002009-04-17T14:01:00.000-07:00Nicely done. Very nicely done.Great example of voi...Nicely done. <I>Very nicely done.</I>Great example of voice. I can hear him speaking. I can hear the cynicism.Rita Webbhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01920860069237677484noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7109148405669867264.post-28364241502763342462009-04-17T03:12:00.000-07:002009-04-17T03:12:00.000-07:00I looked at the wall clock. Twenty to two. There w...I looked at the wall clock. Twenty to two. There was time for another pint. I drained the dregs from my glass and pushed it across the bar.<br /><br />"Same again Sir?"<br /><br />I hate obsequious barmen. Or barwomen. In fact, I hate nearly everybody with complete impartiality.<br /><br />The barman pulled another pint of Old Livery.<br /><br />"Throw in twenty Clearways as well please," I said, placing a handful of change on the counter.<br /><br />One of the good things about the widespread use of nano-technology is that beer can be tailored to heal your liver while it destroys your brain. Cigarettes can be made to clean your lungs while imparting the nicotine rush.<br /><br />I looked around the bar as I drained half the pint. The business crowd had gone after gulping their lattes and baguettes. The only ones remaining were the usual collection of misfits, drunks, saddos and perverts; sitting hunched, solitary in morbid introspection. I decided that I still only fit into two of those categories.<br /><br />Lighting up and blowing smoke at the ceiling, I reflected on the good old days when passive smoking was optional. Now the health benefits made it compulsory for all public places to encourage smoking. Which meant that the predominant colour scheme of all pubs was yellow and tan. Like shit.<br /><br />I finished my pint and looked at the wall clock. Twenty to two. Bloody thing had stopped. I fished a broken-strapped watch out of my pocket.<br /><br />Half past two.<br /><br />Half an hour late back from lunch.<br /><br />The hell with it.<br /><br />I pushed my glass across the bar.<br /><br />"Same again."<br /><br />And again.Paul Mittonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16874110899781970219noreply@blogger.com