"Holy shit balls, what the fuck is that?" I found myself yelling, in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
"I beg your pardon, Sir?" the waiter replied, bending closer as if to signal a quieter tone.
"Don't 'Sir' me, ya little prick. What the fuck is
that
on my plate?" I continued, unabated.
"
Jason
,
keep it down
, it really isn't worth a scene," my wife interjected, trying to hush me by talking through her teeth. That just pissed me off more.
"It's chicken, Sir?" the waiter replied, flushing red with embarrassment.
"I can see it's chicken you little rat. My question to you, is: what the fuck is it doing on our plates? I told you we were both vegan and here you are making mugs of us. Bringing cruelty to our wonderful evening. How would you feel if I shot your dog and laid it on your Christmas dinner table?"
"I, I, don't have a dog, sir. I must insist you not speak, speak to me like that," the waiter stuttered.
"Oh, piss off! We're out of here, and we won't be paying for our drinks," I said.
I stood up and put my jacket on, fully aware that everyone, in every corner of that wanky little establishment on curtain road, was staring at me; burning a hole through my body with their judgement.
"Oh, fuck of you lot, you..." I was just about to begin my Picasso of restaurant rants, when I felt my wife's hand on my wrist, dragging me outside.
"CUNTS!" I yelled, as loud as I could, as the door was closing behind us.
"Just what the
hell
has got into you, Jason? We can't have a night out without you throwing a punch at someone, starting on a bus driver, or kicking off in a restaurant, like an absolute thug! That poor kid was probably about 20. 20! Do you remember what it was like to be a kid working 12 hours shifts for a wage in this city? It's a bloody nightmare, and to have some oaf like you come in and pick on him, for a mistake, is, well, it's just bang out of order."
She had a point. It was a nightmare! £7.50 an hour. 12 hour days. Back to back doubles and a commute home to Zone... twelve. Fuck that.
"Sorry Ellie," I said. "I don't know where the anger comes from. I just, I dunno,
it pissed me off. You know I'm passionate about animals and..."
"No, no, no. Don't you dare try and spin this, so you look like the hero.
Besides, you? Vegan? When it suits you, maybe!" She was yelling now.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." I lifted both hands, palms open, to try and placate the beast; all 5 foot 2 of it.
"Let's just get a cab home, I'm done for the night," Ellie said.
The short journey back was totally silent. The cab driver could clearly tell something was up; he didn't once tell me about the state of the economy, or how 'the Hammers are getting on'.
When we arrived home, I chucked a tenner over the front seat at him and said goodnight. By the time I'd shut the door, Ellie was already inside.
"Fuck me," I shouted from inside the doorway, "it's like the old days. Paying cash! Lucky I even had any on me; didn't even think until we pulled up!"
Nothing.
"Ellie?"
Still nothing.
Fuck her then
. I waded over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Peroni, before heading into the living room and plonking myself on the couch.
****************
"Oh, for God's
sake Jason!"
a nagging voice
bellowed from the darkness. "You are fucking disgusting sometimes."
My eyes shot open.
As my blurred vision subsided, there was incriminating shapes starting to form. Crusty tissue to my left, hand down pants, belt buckle sprawled to my right.
Babe Station?
I thought, as the telly started to come into focus.
"Babe Station?" I said, out loud this time. "I didn't even know that was still a thing."
More than mildly embarrassed, I was trying to make a joke out of it. It didn't go down well. As a thump started to appear at the back of my brain, I was getting flashbacks of standing outside a busy London restaurant, being shouted at by my pint-sized wife. At this point, what I wasn't thinking was:
what I really need right now is a nice little argument.
"Yeah well it's no wonder you never fuck me anymore, isn't it?" Ellie shouted from the kitchen.
That stung a little bit, but I didn't have it in me to respond. Luckily, she changed the subject.
"My brother and his mate are coming over tonight. He's got some work in town. We're having dinner and then he's off nice and early, so you're not to stay up all night drinking again. You know what he's like. And you and I are going to my parents tomorrow, so I don't' want any you flagging and reeking of sweat, beer and dried cum like you do at the moment."
I was quite disgusted by this image, frowning as if I'd caught a whiff of a four day old bottle of milk.
"Oh, you've got a problem with that have you?" she said from the doorway.
"Fuck me! I didn't see you there," I said, feeling almost winded.
"Just get your shit together and clear this up!"
I must have really pissed her off last night
, I thought. She barely swears normally, let alone asserting herself so much.
Shit! What if she gets used to this?
I decided to clear up and make a quick exit for another lie down in bed.
****************
"Jason, come on they'll be here in a minute," a tender voice said from the darkness.
I felt a hand on my forehead and Ellie was there looking over me.
Ah, she's seems to have calmed down,
I thought. After four years together, I'd learnt a few things.
"I'm so sorry honey," I said. (It was super important to apologise first).
"That's okay!" she sighed, "we'll get this weekend out the way then I want to discuss your anger issues. I want you to get some counselling."
I lay quiet for a second.
If the words little man syndrome come out of her mouth now, I'm going to explode
.
"Thoughts?" she asked
"Oh, erm, yeah, I think I need to do something," I admitted.
I mean the last thing I wanted was to talk to some twat, who's paid double what I am, to say 'and how do you
feel
about that?' for an hour at a time. But, you know, you can only push a woman so far.
"Great! We'll talk tomorrow on the way to Mum's. In the meantime, Scott and Eddy are downstairs so come down and say hello when you're ready!"
Confused and half thinking she was joking, I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. I bolted upright and almost knocked her off the bed.
"Shit, it's four o'clock, I'm so sorry honey."
"It's fine, Jason, I'd rather you were awake than grouchy. We've been together four years and you've only met my brother three times. It's important to me that you get on."
"I know honey, it'll be fine, I promise."
Only met him four times...
I thought. I mean, it's not as if he makes any time for his own sister; why should we make time for him? The little prat. Well, maybe not little, but the rest is gospel.
**********************
When I got downstairs the food was just being plated. Scott, Ellie's brother, was owning the kitchen, 'carving' our vegan chicken. Course he was. Dickhead.
"Hi Scott, how are you pal? Looking lean as always!" I said, walking over to him with a huge (forced) smile on my face.
He turned and looked me up and down.
"And you're looking as skinny as ever, little man."
I felt a chill run down my spine.
Don't punch him, DO NOT PUNCH HIM.
"I'm five-foot ten mate," I laughed, "we can't all be six foot!"
"Six foot four, actually," he replied, smugly.
Then he put out his hand and gave me a solid shake, before embracing me
with his other arm. This was all for show of course; for Ellie, he couldn't stand to be near me.
He may be bigger and stronger, but he's as thick as a paving slab and I'd bang him out in a heartbeat;
it seemed
my inner voice was turned to up to 11 for the evening!
"This is Eddy," he pointed to his friend, who was already sitting at the dinner table, "he's helping me on a few jobs in town."
"Hey mate," Eddy responded, in some Northern tone I couldn't quite place.
As we sat round the table, I couldn't help but notice how big Scott was. Chiselled jaw, short thick black hair and biceps that look like he'd just sacked off going to the gym and had bowling balls surgically implanted. With so much blood pumping round those things, it's no wonder he can barely spell his own name.
"So, I hear you had a big night last night, little Jason," Scott said over the table, already lord of the manor, pouring wine for everyone.
Ellie giggled like a little schoolgirl.
"You sure you're not going to need a whole chicken to yourself there, big man?" I replied, holding his eye contact.
"Well, if you were man enough to eat a real chicken, maybe!" he countered.
"Okay, that's enough flirtin' there lads. Shall we eat?" Eddy said, breaking the tension, and raising his wine glass.