The Batchelor, the Chinaman and the Solicitor…

There are a lot of jokes which start out “An Englishman, Irishman and a Scotsman were…” (you can substitute other nations if you wish). This evening I set out to walk down to the town and watch the second half of the Brazil versus Chile match in the pub. Even before the half-time whistle blew, it seemed fairly clear that Brazil were in control, so I set off a little before half-time itself.

Walking along the road, I noticed that the front door of the house of one of my neighbours was open. I hadn’t seen him for a while (not since before Christmas, I think), so I called in. Anyway, a glass of whiskey, a bit of conversation, and an re-introduction to his one-eyed cat and her kittens later, I was on my way. (He’s the batchelor, by the way)

It’s a fair walk down to the town, so the second half and started by the time I got to the pub. The place wasn’t busy, so I bought my pint, pulled up a stool and started to watch the match. A little later a new fella came in. Obviously “not from round here”, but equally obviously well known. He was given a packet of crisps, without him asking and he too sat down to watch the match. I’m not sure, but I think he has something to do with the Chinese Restaraunt a couple of doors along. (…the Chinaman…)

Once the game was finished, with the expected win for Brazil, the Chinaman left, I finished my pint and so did I. It seemed a bit early to finish the evening, so I decide to have one more in the wine bar on the way home. The place was empty except for the barman, a man I’ll choose to describe as “The Solicitor” and me. The Solicitor was finishing his evening mean before going home.

There’s no “story” to this. No punch line. But it is rather nice to see people who catch your eye in the evening. I wonder if they noticed me? Possibly not, but then it doesn’t matter all that much either way.

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