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| circa 1983 |
I do miss a good night in town with the mates particularly Friday, Saturday night in the late 1970s, early 1980s there was never a dull moment. The rise of the dickheads male and female makes the difference these days and the destruction of the ordinary pub to a themed hell, not for me. Yes there were dickheads back than but today town is full of them.
There was nothing better than settling into the pub for a night with cracking company and having a good drink listening to someone’s shit taste in music on the jukebox. Over the years, pubs I laid my hat down in are disappearing many turning into flats or shops as more people drink at home before going out.
Getting sorted before a night out and looking forward to that first pint in the pub was always better if you front up just as someone is getting a round in.
I was known for drinking to excess from time to time but I was a happy drunk as my friends can attest to but my dark side would erupt when nursing a hangover. Anyone waking up with me or in my space were likely to get an earful and more, no violence, just a crusty headed Pete swearing off the demon drink forever.
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| circa 1983 |
It was always pubs with me I went to clubs but it was never my kind of scene. Remember when pub shut around 3 o’clock to open again at 5 o’clock those two hours could be hell. When in town there was a routine, I stuck to mostly. We would depart from the pub around last orders depending on who was out to play. A visit to chippy lane was on the cards and Dorothys for something to eat for the trip homebound.
I know I said I was a happy drunk there was something at could set me on a moody … someone thinking it was funny to pinch a chip and mess with my food. It’s a simple no, no; messing with my food is a criminal offence punishable with a rather nasty stare and the words “Piss Off” the message given.
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| circa 1983 hangover |
After a night on the pop, there is always that urge for food that becomes over whelming and for me there is only one place to go if I was in town, Dorothys. If we were not in town, we would find something to eat somewhere. I remember a few trips over the border for a bacon sandwich. The truth be told my favourite was always Dorothy’s there was something special about queuing at the establishment and getting ever closer to the culinary masterpiece … Chicken Curry ‘n’ Chips off the bone. It was worth the price of staggering to the shop passing all the suckers with their McDonalds to get real food.
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| The lady of Chippy Lane |
I could out myself as some kind of drunk pig here but here goes! He we go for starters I was known to buy a fishcake stating I would be taking it home for later but 9 times out of 10 I would eat it straight away, naughty Peter. The aforementioned Chicken Curry ‘n’ Chips off the bone most people would be happy with that but sometimes not me I could go the extra mile. After finishing off my Dorothys meal, I was known for stopping off at a burger van that use to be outside the bus station and buying a Jumbo sausage hot dog.
I am actually licking my lips thinking about it but it did fortify me for the walk home. Those where the days my friends until fatherhood came knocking at the door ending such nights has those to a rarity. Today on the odd occasion I venture into town it is in day light hours and be back home by 8pm, slippers on sitting in front of the TV sober eating Chicken Curry ‘n’ Chips off the bone from Dorothys some things never change.
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