Bananas on a Saturday night

It used to be called Bananas, but it looks like they’ve changed the name to Tropics. Not a bad name for a pub in Leigh; especially in wintertime.

As we walk into the crowded little pub, at the top of Railway Road, I can see that Donna and Heather are still shaking from the ten-minute walk in the frosty, November weather. Paul is like me: we feel the cold, but unlike the women we don’t make a big deal out of it. The DJ’s playing: ‘Need you tonight’ by INXS. I now know that it’s pronounced ‘in-excess’, but I called them ‘INKS’ for ages; quite embarrassing really.

It’s really busy in here tonight! There’s no way we are all going to get served at the same time. The TV is showing Margaret Thatcher standing outside of Downing Street, but I can’t hear it because of the banging sound of Antipodean rock that’s surrounding us. I’ve never known any other Prime Minister since coming here with Mum from South Africa, seven years ago. Maggie Thatcher the job snatcher isn’t really liked ‘Up North’. People prefer the colour red in this part of the world.

Oh good, Paul’s gone to the bar; I’ll get the next one. It’s quite strange how me and Paul (Paul and I is so pretentious) are best mates, and happen to be going out with Donna and Heather, who are also best mates. I definitely got the prettiest and most kissable of the two; Donna really is fit.

Oh, surprise, surprise, the girls have found the dance floor. I think I might just walk over and show them some real dance moves; and I don’t need a handbag to dance around, either, but I can always borrow Paul’s if need be. Come to think of it he’s buying me a pint, so I’d better be nice. Oh that tastes good: not too warm, not too cold. I can hear the fizzing ale having a party of its own in my glass. I don’t know what people complain about! Castlemaine XXXX tastes good enough to me.

We’ve been in here a few hours now; so much for the pub-crawl, but never mind it’s the best pub in Leigh. The bouncers are starting to kick people out. It’s a good job really because I’ve got to see Donna home, have a bit of a snog fest; perhaps a little bit more if her mum and dad are asleep. Here’s hoping!

About Sean

I live in my own thoughts, chat to imaginary friends, and survive primarily on Snickers and Nescafe. I work full-time and study part-time for a BA in English Literature with the OU. Home is the North West of England, and my heroes are those authors that can make miracles out of paper and words…… “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.” – Mark Twain.
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