It is winter and it is pint season.
The clouds are rolling in and the rain is falling down and the pub is sure to be warm. It’s cold out here and it’s cozy in there, so what else are you going to do. Everyone else is there and it’s one or two or four pints and then time to shove your hands back in your pockets and do a hurried shuffle to the bus stop but, oh, why not stay for one more pint.
It’s after work on a Friday and the sun’s down but the smiles are up because there are pints. It’s a Sunday and five-a-side’s all wrapped and you played shit but your surf earlier was alright and now there are pints. It’s Monday and you’re off to the shops but, oh, what’s this, you’ve finished earlier than expected may as well nip off for one cheeky pint.
It’s Christmas and you have two days off if you’re American and two weeks off if you’re anyone else but either way there are pints. It’s home for the holidays and back at the place you used to drink in aged 16, 17, 18 and nothing’s changed except the chairs sit lower than you remember. There are old friends you’d like to see and old friends you’d best avoid and everyone has pints. Now look, here, one’s coming your way and asking: “So, how,” and they stop to take a sip of their pint. “How’s…? That whole writing thing in the city going then?” And what else can you do other than take a long sip of your pint and pretend you didn’t hear them.
It’s the following morning and you’re hungover and I’m talking a hangover-hangover and it’s because of the pints. Stay prone, close your eyes and only move your tender palms to your clammy forehead. “Bit of a heavy night?” your mind is screaming back and like, yeah: my skull may as well be under the tire of a Peugeot but that’s what happens with pints. And what can you do other than turn your head sideways and scroll through all this on your phone with only one eye open, just as God intended amen. The wind’s already on it so here we are with these photos and these photos aren’t speaking back to us but shouting rather. With every image your inner monologue echos louder and louder. I stopped caring about all this Pipeline nonsense the second after Jeremy Flores was eliminated.