By the time her husband caught up with her, she had reached the point of no return. She had enlisted the support of two American students, who, unlike the locals, had been oblivious to where the revelry was headed, and were now stuck standing awkwardly on the table with her, while she directed a stream of obscenities at an Englishman in the corner. He was at least twice her size in both height and girth and was watching her with a look of mild amusement on his face, as though taking in a second-rate comedienne, and he was just opening his mouth to heckle her when her husband stepped between them.
Let her alone Tom, you know it'll only encourage her, he admonished. Turning to his wife, he tried to talk her down off the table, but she turned her fire on him. Finally the bartender, another Englishman, came over and threatened to physically remove her from the pub. She gave him swift punch in the nose, eliciting uproarious laughter from the crowd before crumpling into a sobbing heap.
Her husband shot a sympathetic glance at the bartender. She's only homesick, you know, he said.
No hard feelings, the man replied. We'll see you on Saturday for the match, then?
He nodded as he led his wife out into the cold sunlight.
No comments:
Post a Comment