Time for the next installment of the ongoing drama that is-
'Leigh and Steve go for a drink in Uxbridge'
-in which our heroes get unfeasibly angry over 68 pence.
Monday evening and myself and Price merchandise supremo Steve (a.k.a. East) are in The Three Tuns on Uxbridge High Street, and, for the time being at least, are both in good humour. Our teams (he's United, I'm Liverpool) are both in Champions League semi-finals, there's some upcoming Price gigs to prepare for and the beer's cheap at only £1.94 a pint. There's no nutters having a go at us for once, it's approaching closing time and, general ranting and raving aside, we're having a fine evening which we decide to end with 2 halves 'as it's a school day tomorrow'. I pay the barmaid with a fiver and she brings back my change which, for some reason, I put on the bar... and it's only £2.38. It should, unless I've forgotten my maths, be £3.06.
Funny how it's the little things in life that count isn't it? I guess if I was a more confident person I'd have pointed out to her that she'd made a mistake and my change was wrong... but, no, I decided that she was actually a master criminal cruelly embezzling a fortune out of hapless punters in an otherwise insignificant West London pub. And I got really annoyed. I'm still annoyed now- mostly with myself for not saying something about it at the time. Sometimes I'd trade some I.Q. points to be more confident, more sure of myself, more... like everyone else is, if you know what I mean. But, I wouldn't be me if I did that, would I?
Mind you, East thought she probably needed the money for a decent haircut- either that or the next part of her sex change operation. He's a cruel man. But fair.
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