Tequila: it makes you happy
Mr Tequila Man and I were walking to the pub on Friday night, well to the third pub of the evening if we’re going to be completely honest about this, it was past closing (late licence pubs are where its at) and even though I had by this stage been drinking for a good 5 hours I couldn’t quite kick the habit of commuting.
The rest of the party were some way behind us, one of which had last been seen crossing the road on his knees, declaring his undying love to the girl he’ll never have, it was that kind of an evening. We were talking about life and jobs and what we wanted to do when we grew up, if he really wanted to fight the good fight, if he wouldn’t rather give it all up and get some mindless 9-5 job and get drunk every night, would it be better to be an observer or a participator and what happens if even those who want to change the world are already as cynical and jaded as we are - but who would fight the good fight if we didn’t?
We turned the corner and crouched on the pavement, crying was a woman in her mid 40s, wraped in a large winter coat, pulled tightly across her chest, and guarding or maybe sheltering behind a pram; but a pram with no baby, packed to overflowing with bags and boxes, the contents of which we couldn’t tell. We walk round the corner, we see her, we walk on, we pause, we turn, we go back.
‘Do you want a cigarette love?’ he asks, getting out his packet and a lighter. She takes the cigarette, and hands shaking, lights it. ‘Are you alright?’ he asks. No, she shakes her head, her boyfriend is round the corner and he’s being horrible to her, makes her push this pram around all day for him, she drags on her cigarette. ‘Did she have anywhere to go if it didn’t work out?’ he asks, putting a hand on her shoulder. Yes, there was a shelter down the street, she’d be fine, thank you for the cigarette, thank you for your kindness, she’d be fine. She stands and wipes her nose with her sleeve, and clutches the cigarette as though her life depended on it and smiles at us.
We smile our polite, middle class smiles, wish her good night and tell her to take care, and then we walk on to go drink tequila in the nearest bar…