Are They Alright?

Mentals, Nut Nuts, Actual Retards – roll up, roll up – we had them all last night.

Literally, all of them.

It was as though the super secret Nut Nut Bat signal had gone up over the Taps calling them all to descend at once, like some kind of perverse League of Retardation.

Marathon Man, Tony, Woof Woof, Birthday Boy [who is an interesting character. He’s quite an elderly fella who comes in most Friday or Saturday nights – when it’s full of properly obnoxious types – and quite happily stands at the bar drinking right until closing time. At which time he tells everyone that it’s his birthday and then Des and Terry lead everyone in singing him Happy Birthday. And he’s always so pleased. Every single time] an Irish couple who apparently often drink during the day [and fight during the night].

All we needed for the complete set would have been gapped tooth woman and ‘Call Me an Ambulance, My Leg Hurts.’

And somehow, in some cosmic drunken perfect storm of borderline personality disorders and social maladjustment, they all got involved together in a long and loud discussion about love, life and relationships.

This all while Irena, Colin and I were trying to have quiz night, and the Taps Boys were having FIFA 2012 night down the end.

Now their conversation, which believe me was as actually retarded (though deeply compelling) as you would imagine, was also punctuated by the lot of them periodically breaking into old Irish drinking songs, and then depending on where they were in their conversation, either hugging, crying or fighting.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Taps.