Stockton Midnight

Cold, drizzle, walk quicker, fasten the top button on my Hackett shirt, scan the street, queues too long for me, could probably get in Bar Ibiza but it’s only just gone 12, got some valuable drinking time to kill, make a left, hurrying up, of course, Jockers! Haven’t been there in ages, 80s hell, neon paint, Top Gun posters, barstaff in Frankie shirts, tight dance floor as I recall, easy to squeeze on your way to the bogs, machines? Couple of fruities and a weakest link. Don’t like it, too boring but I love the tunes, “alright mate” “good evening”, go in anyway, undo top button, glance around, [AND DID YOU THINK THIS FOOL COULD NEVER WIN, WELL LOOK AT ME, I’M COMING BACK AGAIN]blondes at the bar, young ‘uns on the stage, make for the bar, hand down and eye contact, “pint of extra cold mate”, still scanning, no sign of Gary or Si, [DON’ T LEAVE ME THIS WAY, I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW I’M AT YOUR COMMAND] plastic glass, hate plastic glasses, neck it anyway, hand on my shoulder, “Now Then Doyle!”, Tommo! Now then!; “you seen who’s in the corner?” “nah” “Caitlin”. Gulp, Caitlin, Fucking Caitlin, Jesus, glance behind optics, see half my face but looks presentable, undo second button, “Where abouts mate?” “Over by the bogs, sat down” “I’ll catch yer later soft lad” deep breaths, lead with left arm, protect pint, where is she?, is this a wind-up? [MY WORRIES AWAY, YOU’RE ALL THE THINGS I’VE GOT TO REMEMBER] She’s there. Sat down in the corner, spare seat next to her, deep breaths, “Hiya” “Hello” “Tommo saw you, said you were here” “did he now?” “Anybody sat here?” “The Invisible Man”, still funny, still beautiful, still hurts, still, “I’ll have a breezer”, [AAAHHH WE FADE TO GREY]