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“Thats when you know you’ve found someone special. When you can just shut the fuck up and enjoy the comfortable silence.”
I have that line going round my head right now. Though I decided a while back that it was a pretty good quote to live by, like my own personal one line bible.
Right now I’m sitting in a dark, creaky pub that has a sense of desperation running throughout it. When people talk about ‘atmosphere’, this is the kind of place that represents the polar opposite. The creaky chair that I’m sitting on feels like it may collapse underneath me at any moment, as if to finally get a way out of the alcohol soaked pit that it resides in. Looking around at the drunken and questionably dressed 50 somethings, I really wouldn’t blame it.
The girl I’m with comes back from her phone conversation, saying something about her brother needing money. We only ducked in here because the main town square was too far away, and my suggestion of ‘going someplace quieter’ was a slick cover up of the fact that I thought we would get mugged if we walked any further up.
The problem is, neither of us really want to be in here, but both of us are too awkward to mention the possibility of going somewhere else. I mean, if I do it then it doesn’t make sense that I suggested going here in the first place, with a degree of assurance booming from my voice like some sort of welcoming family member. All of this has, of course, led to a long degree of silence, and not the comfortable kind.
“You had a good week then?”
“Yeh, it’s been fine thanks. Nothing’s really happened.”
“Oh, cool.”
Well shit, I’m out of conversation ideas. As she sits running her finger around the rim of her glass, a loud, drunken man nearly falls off his bar stool, prompting him to be chucked out by a burly security guard, who apparently has nowhere else to work other than a shitty pub. As I saw it, this was pretty much the best ice-breaker i could ask for.
“Do you think that people are born to be security guards? I mean, pretty much every single one that has ever existed has been completely massive, and they normally have the exact same face, now that I think about it.”
“I know someone who used to be a security guard for one of the clubs back home, he was an alright guy. Probably wouldn’t like you saying that.”
I thought she had taken offense, but she then omitted a small laugh, to which i smiled backed at. It still didn’t stop me from thinking that I’d gone off on a tangent and in my head i was crucifying myself for saying it. The bar was quieter now that the ludicrously drunken man had been thrown out, the main source of sound coming from the tinny speakers dotted around the room transmitting a song by some Britpop band that I couldn’t put my finger on but disliked anyway. Neither of us were speaking again, but I didn’t feel as on the edge about as I had done a few minutes ago. Uma Thurman’s quote from Pulp Fiction ran through my head again, even though it still had little relevance to my current situation. Maybe tonight it didn;t need to.
“Another drink?”
“Yeh, sure, why not.”


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