George Smith lay in bed facing the large window deep in contemplation, he heard the clock in the hall strike twice a few minutes ago. It was just after two in the morning, and already it had been a long night, sleep was still a long, long way away. There was a stirring behind him as his wife, Wendy, moved position with a small exhaled breath once more. One consolation was that tomorrow was Saturday, and he did not have to get up early for work.
The contemplation on George's mind was about earlier in the evening. He had been, as usual on most Friday nights, to the local pub to meet his mate, Alan. They had been friends since college, and despite them now being married they still meet up for a few drinks and a chat, which after a couple of pints usually became a little louder. Tonight though was different, very different indeed. He had just walked into the bar when his phone rang, it was Alan saying that his mum had fallen and he needed to go to the hospital. George sympathised and said he hoped it was not too serious. A quick thought about going home was dismissed as he ordered his usual pint and found a seat. It was quiet compared to some Fridays, but then there was no disco in the bar tonight.
After getting his second pint, served by the gorgeous looking landlady Jean, George turned without looking. Actually, he was still concentrating on her ample chest barely covered by the top she was almost wearing, and straight into a man with his pint glass. It spilt down his arm and in his effort to move it away some slopped over his trousers as well. The apologies were numerous as George stood red-faced while the man, with a little help from a towel provided by Jean, dried himself as best he could. The only gentlemanly thing to do was offer to buy the man a beer for the all trouble caused. It was kindly accepted, and George returned to his seat, hoping that the spectacle he had started was over and everyone close by could return to their drinks and conversations.
That should have been it. George finished his second pint and having spilt almost a half of it decided to have a quick half before making his way home. The man he had soaked earlier came to the bar while he waited, put down his empty glass, smiled and said he would have another. George, although a little taken aback, just nodded before ordering the two drinks.
He sat nursing his beer occasionally looking at the man stood with two others by the quiz machine, they had been laughing in his direction since he returned to his seat. George felt uncomfortable knowing they were having a laugh at his misfortune, so decided it was time to go home. Passing by the three of them on his way out, he looked away trying not to make eye contact.
"Excuse me mate, you can't go yet you still have to get me another pint."
George froze a moment before turning to see the man holding up a nearly empty glass.
"I tell you what, why don't you get three pints in for the lads and me."
This was a little intimidating, especially with them being so close, and they were all taller and more muscular than him. He had a sudden vision of being taken outside and getting beaten up. He gave them a weak smile and made his way to the bar, followed by the man with three glasses. The three pints actually became four as George was made to have one as well. Before he could pick up his glass, it was taken over to the other two and plonked on the table beside them.
He was introduced to Nigel, Harry, and his new mate was Peter. The conversations started again as George stood there trying to drink his pint as quickly as possible, it wasn't easy though, as not being a big drinker and having had two pints already, he felt a little bloated.
"Here, Pete, what happened the last time someone spilt beer down you. In the Crown wasn't it last year."
George looked up from his beer at the words said by Harry. What he had not seen was Harry nudge Nigel and wink at Pete.
"Oh yeah, I remember that. Didn't we take him out back, take his trousers down and spank his bare arse," replied Pete before taking another gulp on his pint.
"Was it then, I thought that was the Peacock?"
"No, you took your belt to that snivelling bloke at the Peacock," interjected Nigel.
"You're both wrong about the Peacock. It was the barman, and we stopped after closing before bending him over a stool."
"Now I remember, then we..." that was followed by Nigel making a quick whistle noise. At which all three started laughed loudly.
George watched in amazement and total disbelief while holding his half-finished pint.
"Not to worry George we won't be taking you out back," Nigel said, finishing his pint off.
"No, Harry lives two doors down so we can go there and give you your punishment for ruining my shirt and trousers," Pete added with a big grin as he too finished his beer.
The pint glass was taken from a shocked George, and he was ushered out the door in silence, well apart from Harry and Nigel giggling that is. Pete had an arm on his shoulder, and they briskly walked the fifty yards to the home of Harry.
"Look, this isn't right. I have apologised and bought you beers, surely that is enough." George found his voice as they waited for Harry to unlock the back door.
"Just get inside George, standing in the middle of the front room, be quiet, and it will soon be over."
