Written by Tommy Twinkle

Sunday, 30 June 2013

image for Ron and Fred on Jugs n Bells You can always judge a pub by the toilets!

RON: I mean I'm not sayin' ev'ryfing was better in the old days Fred coz they wasn't, no gettin away from it, but plenty ov fings was. And I miss em I do. I miss the bells. I miss the smell ov coal, and the saand me mum would make wiv the shovel when she was gettin a bucket ov it in from a big metal fing we ad in our garden. Sahnd all ov its own it ad. It'd all be covered in snow when she came back indoors wiv the bucket. I can see 'er face nah wiv the little icicle danglin dahn from the tip ov me mum's nose.

FRED: I miss jugs, yer don't see the jugs now do yer. They'd av a glass andle on em. Little bumps araand the glass jug and a glass andle.

RON: These glasses do the job I s'pose, beer tastes the same dunnit.

FRED: They was alright if yer was sittin dahn raand a table but a bit too 'eavy after a while if yer was standin up n 'olding it. It would make yer drink the first alf ov the pint fast so's to get the weight dahn a bit. See, that's why the pubs av ardly anyone in em now, used to get people drinkin them jugs did n it would liven the pubs up. Nahdays they just sit daan round a table sippin alf a lager for three hours.

RON: I reckon you've 'it the old nail on the 'ead you av there Fred. Pubs got rid of the jugs, started t lose their customers n decided to whack the few they ad left by stickin up the price ov the beer.

FRED: Just t keep the same overall amount of money flowin' in through the tills.

RON: Yeah. I mean it was nice t walk in to a pub n always know there'd be a few empty tables in there t sit dahn araand but the pubs no longer ad that pubby atmosphere to em.

FRED: Then all the jobs went and people ad no money to afford the new expensive beer.

RON: I mean look at it in 'ere t'day Fred. There's that soppy old sod over in the corner there, there's the guvnor's old woman sittin up the bar wiv 'er gin, there's Banana Bill avin a quick pint 'fore 'e gets back to 'is fruit n veg stall in the market, and me n you. Where's the next generation ov drinkers Fred, the young ones t take over when us lot are bringin up daisies.

FRED: Don't know.

RON: Don't know? Well I do. They're all dahn the supermarkets the young ones. They're buyin cheap cans ov beer there n then sittin on the benches outside gettin pissed as pudduns and makin a nuisance of emselves to the traffic wardens.

FRED: I was the same at that age though Ron. Not drinkin outside a supermarket like, but I'd av a skinful most days. Only way t get used t drinkin it is. Gives yer a bit ov confidence wiv people. I used to av it away with the local bobby's bike. Yer body can take it when yer younger as well, when 'e used t' be a bit quick and catch me wiv 'is truncheon as I sped away. Drop o' beer never done anyone any arm in my 'pinion. Appy days they was.

RON: Mind you, some of em do knock it back a bit, Fred. Especially the young girls. Av you seen em in that town square at nine or ten in the mornin' or when they go rollin in that job centre t sign on. Can ardly stand up most of em.

FRED: Good t be young though innit!

RON: Oh yeah. Not knockin em, all part of learnin t become responsible adults. But there's pubs closin dahn all over the place, Fred. Black Swan's closin dahn on Fridee.

FRED: Can't say I'm s'prised. I could tell it was in trubble when we was in there a few weeks ago. No toilet paper in the bogs.

RON: You can always judge a pub by the toilets, Fred.

FRED: I ad to 'old it in till I got 'ome.

RON: The gun'nor there put 'is prices up again and the last few regulars ad a chinwag t'gether then told 'im they'd all ad enuff ov 'im and 'is prices. Guv'nor tells em if they don't like it they know what they can - so they did.

FRED: I was never all that keen on the 'Swan anyway - not one ov my fav'rites. Bin quiet in there ferra few years.

RON: If they was t put the prices ov the beer daan Fred they'd get the drinkers back.

FRED: And bring back the jugs.

RON: Yeah. And years ago all the pubs would av a pianer in the corner. Come Fridee n Sat'dee night ev'ryone would be singin n dancin. Youngsters nahdays still like their music just like we did at their age. Bahnd t' be youngsters t'day that can knock out a tune on a pianer....and yeah, I do miss the bells.

FRED: I used to know a geezer that did a bit ov church bell ringin'. Ding-dong Danny we called 'im. Judge gave 'im two years when 'e nicked the big bell n flogged it.

RON: No, I aint talkin baht church bells, I mean the little bells they used t ring in the pubs. Y'd get a warnin bell t giv yer ten minutes t sup up then anuvver bell ten minutes later lettin yer know they wanted t' close up n go t bed.

FRED: Extended openin hours put an end t them.

RON: Extended openin hours are all very well Fred but there's ardly any punters in the pubs nah at any time of the day or night. Ridic'lous it is.

FRED: Peaceful though.

RON: But pubs aint s'posed t be peaceful, Fred. They're meant t be places t let yer 'air dahn n make a noise they are.

FRED: No, I mean it used t be nice n peaceful after ding-dong Danny was put away. Nice n peaceful on a Sundee mornin it was.

RON: Oh.....yeah. Cor, some of them big churches av massive bells they do. Heavy buggers annal they are.

FRED: They call it a foundry don't they, where they make the bells.

RON: Yeah. Cor, they are big sods some ov em are.

FRED: They must cost a fortune, the bigger ones.

RON: Nah, yer can get old ov the actual church bell f' next t noffink on the internet Fred, even the bigger ones. Ready for anuvver pint?

FRED: Yeah, I won't say no.

RON: Yer see, what makes em so dear is the bloody post n packin'!!!

- end -

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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