The Name's James [Incomplete]

     It's getting dark, there is a light mist in the air, and I can't see 10 feet in front of me. Thursday night. Boys night. The night where me and a few of my colleagues from university meet up for a pint and to take the piss. Better hurry, it's almost 7 and I'm still 4 blocks away. Not that it really matters. They're always late and I could make the trip with my eyes closed. two blocks down, one block right, and then across from the butchers. But I still like to get the good booth and have a little time to flirt with Molly. Best get that done before the boys show up and start teasin me about her. Molly is one of the waitresses down at The Cock & Ewe pub. She's about 5'4, mid 30s, hair as red as the sunset, eyes this amazing shade of blue-green...like the ocean of some tropical paradise you only hear about, only more blue and much prettier.  Been coming here for 8 years and have yet to work up the courage to ask her out..

"Hey thar James!" I hear as soon as I walk in.

"Hoy!" I shout over the noise of the footie fans huddled under the 20 inch TV strapped to the back wall. The stout man behind the bar goes by Henry.

     Big scruffy beard, bulbous nose, and balder than a newborn on top. The man stands at 6 foot even and weighs in at around 280lbs. Nicest guy in east London, but if you start trouble in his pub you'll be flyin out the door! The pint  and shot of whiskey are waiting for me at the bar as I walk up to greet the bear of a man.

"How's Margret doin'?" I asked "She still got the flu or whatever it is?"

"Ta, she's spend'n most her time in bed, shouting me chores to do! Ha!"

"Ha, so that's why you've been working the longer shifts then, eh?"

"Ah James, you know me to well! Haha! Well best you keep that between you and I, less you vanish in the night, right?"

"Of course! Haha!"

     Henry had poured himself a shot and we slammed them down together. I take my beer and begin my quest across the floor but not before Henry slaps my back, nearly making my spill some beer, as he rushes over to the far side of the bar where a hoodlum is pouring himself a shot. Crossing the bar floor is no minor feat. not when the footie boys are hooting and pushing each other around! But two sidesteps and a sudden stop later, I make it to the booth just as a young couple are leaving. I slide their plates and cups to the edge of the table, take a sip of my beer and slide into the booth, sitting in view of the TV, and more importantly, the kitchen door, where I hope to be seeing Molly emerge from soon.

A few minutes pass and Henry grabs the dishes and makes a bad joke about a nun and a polar bear and takes them away to the kitchen. Still no sight of Molly. I sigh and take a drink. I hear a shout and a grunt and turn to the door just as Ben busts in with Jimmy in a headlock shouting something about a woman, vodka, and a bag or gummy worms. Ben is one of my boys, 5'8, 200lbs, short dark brown hair and a ridiculous mustache. Jimmy is Bens younger brother. Only by a year and a half, but still his younger brother. Jimmy is just like Ben, except not at all. 6', 180lbs, the same, but a little longer, dark brown hair and a goatee. Aside from being brothers, they are also flat mates, for how they thought that was a good idea, I have no idea.

I met Ben in a Math class on my second year at Uni. Met Jimmy a few months later at a party that our friend Sven threw. Sven was an ok guy, had some issues fitting in with people when he was sober, and an angry, but friendly, drunk. So he was at pretty much every party held on and around the school. And always, always shitfaced. He went into rehab a year after uni. We all lost contact with him a little after that. That is until he made it into the paper. You see, he always would go on about how he was gonna be famous and move to the states and everyone would love him. These rants were, of course, said when we wasn't drunk enough to pass out or fight anyone, but drunk enough to hit on a blowup doll and piss on a plant. In the living room.

We would tease him about how he would probably never leave this town and the best he could do would be make the papers. When he sobered up the mornings after, he would agree and get kinda quiet for the next day or two. But then you would see him at the next party and he would be happy as a clam, pissing everywhere and hitting on the house plants.  It came as a surprise when we read about how he had killed himself. It said that he had gotten drunk and snuck into his high school gym and hung himself. It was a Friday night so no one found him till Monday morning. We still talk about him and some of those parties. Remembering the good times and such. A few of us think that he might of been gay and just couldn't handle it. His dad wasn't what you would call a fan of "faggots" so it's not really all that surprising that he couldn't admit it to himself.. Would explain why he always seemed so angry and awkward when we was sober.

"Oy! Break it up you two!" Shouted Henry from across the bar.

      It was a booming voice, but said with a smile as he was pouring the boys a beer. They settled down then, though there was a kick or two as they were walking over to the booth.

"So...Tha fuck are you two at it for this time, eh?" I asked, knowing it didn’t really matter. They’ll be fine soon enough.

    A drink or two and a slap of the back of Jimmys head and they are best friends again, funny how that works.

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Couldn't sleep a few nights ago.

 This was as far as I made it before falling asleep.

Hopefully get around to finishing it or something.. 

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