The Nag’s Head Public House Peckham, on a wet Friday lunchtime. A tall almost emaciated ungainly man with a dirty blonde shoddy haircut, wearing a khaki combat jacket and jeans two sizes too big for him, walks unsteadily and very slowly towards a table in the corner carrying a tray of drinks, concentrating hard not to spill any of the beverages under his control.
“Blimey Rodders” says a smaller man dressed in a 1980’s style trench-coat and wearing enough fake jewellery to shut down Argos. “You ain’t carrying a ticking time-bomb there my son. Hurry up, will you. The back of me throat thinks me tonsils have dried up and fallen off. Sacre bleu amigo, sacre bleu!”
“Hold up Del” says an elderly man sporting a big white beard and wearing a duffel jacket. “Give the lad a chance. Do you know during the war I was serving as a deck steward in the Russian convoys on the ‘Glorianna’. One day I had to carry a huge tray of champagne glasses through the Captain’s Mess in a force 9 gale when suddenl……”
“Oh do shut up Albert!’ said the smaller man again. “Rodney if you don’t get here shortly with them drinks Mike will be calling last orders and it’ll be time to set the stall up in the market tomorrow.”
“I’m coming Del. Just you sit there and throw out your orders, don’t mind me” the younger of the two Trotter brothers, Rodney, was not impressed by the heckling of his older brother Derek.
Arriving at the table Rodney distributed the drinks around the table in front of the various assembled company, depositing the last, a cocktail glass decorated with a cherry on a stick, a wedge of pineapple and a small umbrella, in front of his brother. “There you go Del” he said, “A Pernod, a dash of Peri Peri sauce and ginger ale, just like you asked for”.
A man in a second hand checked suit jacket who had a remarkable facial resemblance to a horse which had been hit on the head with a plank spoke “ What about that Brexit then?”
“Eh?” said Del. “What do you mean Trigg, what about Brexit?”
The slow thinking equine-faced man spoke again. “Well, I don’t feel any different.”
“Eh?” said Del again, looking bewilderedly around the other faces at the table, the others were equally as bemused. “What is he on about?” Trigg, what are you talking about?’
‘Brexit. We left, and I don’t feel any different, we’re still here, aren’t we? We didn’t go anywhere” said Trigger.
“It’s been cancelled Trigger, twice” said a moustachioed used-car salesman sitting to the confused man’s left. “ We’re not leaving now until October.”
“Thank God for that then “ said Trigger “I haven’t even packed yet. How many pairs of socks do you think I should take?”
A number of heads around the table shook, some eyebrows were raised, and the assembled company went back to their drinks.
Rodney, open-mouthed, raising a finger as if he was about to say something in response, changed his mind, and took a sip of his half pint of lager.