Pretty In Drink

I’m going to let you know of a little secret. It may not be a secret to you, you may know of this already but never think about it. It may just be a natural idea that you take for granted. Don’t worry, I understand. It happens to the best of us.

It’s a phenomena used all over world by many different people. If you’re a businessman, a student, a retired person or even famous, it will help you. If you’re busy, disinterested, tired or all three, it can come in handy when you need it the most. Alex needed it today, so I introduced it to him. It's called 'The Pop-in'. He needed it because he had a problem.

‘Fran’s invited me to a party.’

It didn’t sound like a problem.

‘Yeah, so? Sounds good to me.’ I shrugged.

‘She wants me to meet her parents.’

‘You haven’t met them before? 

Alex shook his head.

'You and Fran live together!’

‘Yeah, I don’t think they’re happy about that.’

I can see why he needed my help.

‘They’ll be fine about it.’ I tried.

‘I suppose, but all the relatives will be there and I’m not good at first impressions.’

Yeah, he insulted Fran when they first met.

‘They’ll want to chat and I’m not good at chat.’

He was right, he wasn’t. The typical English person has a gene in their body that can easily chat about the big three. The weather. The latest football score and last night’s TV. Alex’s gene hadn’t evolved. That’s why we spent yesterday talking about a new game show we created. Basically, put famous people in rags and make them be homeless for a month. They have to find food and try not to be recognised. The BBC will snap it up soon. You wait and see.

‘Just do a pop-in.’ I said.

‘A what?’

‘A pop-in.’ I shrugged.

I can’t believe he’d never heard of a pop-in. It saved me a few times in my life. I had no choice to pass it on.

‘It’s simple. You turn up, do a meet and greet, buy a pint. Quick chat to the relatives and then say you’ve got work in the morning, so you need an early night. They think you’re caring for turning up and a hard worker, you’re out in half an hour. Easy.’

Alex looked thrilled.

‘Where have you got this from?’

‘It’s been around for ages. I’m not sure who first did it, but he deserves an award.’

‘Yeah, definitely a medal or something.’

I enlightened Alex with some of my stories of recent pop-in’s, and there have been quite a lot of them. Wedding receptions, which the couple deserved because they didn’t invite me to the ceremony: it’s basically saying “We like you, but not enough to see us in a church.” christenings (the child doesn’t know, does he?) and even funerals. I’ll admit that one was a mistake. But Alex didn’t mind, he took the information and ran with it, but the next time I saw him he looked pained.

‘I turned up. Did the meet and greet. Bought a pint.’ He winced.

‘Good. Sounds about right so far…’

‘Chatted the relatives…’

‘Yeah.’

‘Her Granddad's is a lovely bloke. Good dancer too…’

I didn’t ask.

‘Did you say you had to be up in the morning?’

‘Yes, but Fran gave me another pint.’

‘OK. So you popped it for what? 45 minutes…an hour?’

‘Nope.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I stayed all night.’

‘What happened to the pop-in?’

‘I couldn’t do it!’ Alex shrieked. ‘Every time I said I was off they forced another pint at me.’

‘Bastards.’

Sounds harsh, but they were bastards. Forcing a man to stay at a party, when they think he’s working in the morning. Alex didn’t even get his coat off, he was so prepared to do the pop-in, but they weren’t having any of it.

‘I forgot what happened after the eight pint, I only bought one.’

‘The pop-in pint.’ I sympathised.

‘Yeah.’

Alex put his hand to his forehead and rubbed it. It seemed to me that there was something else on his mind.

‘Fran didn’t speak to me this morning. She stayed in bed.’

‘Oh, that’s bad. What did you do?’

‘I don’t know. After eight pints I forgot my name. She’s in soon.’

It suddenly hit me that my advice had viciously backfired. Without the pop-in, Alex may have been a bit more relaxed and dare I say it, enjoyed the night.

‘Did you speak to her mum and dad?’

‘Yeah, but only towards the end of the night, they were busy chit chatting to other people.’

‘So what do you remember?’

‘I remember them questioning me about living with Fran…that’s all I can remember.’

We spent the next hour trying to complete the jigsaw of Alex’s failed pop-in, but it was interrupted by Fran, shouting us over as she got helped out of her Dad’s car. Fran’s Dad was a big bloke, with a rugby shirt over his big frame and a grey moustache in the middle of his bulky face. He didn’t look up once at Alex as he got back into his silver range rover, said goodbye to his daughter and sped off.

‘Did you enjoy last night?’

Fran smiled, but she is known to be a little sarcastic, so I was waiting for her to run over his foot with her wheelchair.

‘Good. Good.’ Alex swallowed hard.

‘My Granddad enjoyed his dance with you.’

Again, I didn’t ask.

‘He did ask why you had your coat on, though.’

‘Bit cold in there, wasn’t it?’

‘I didn’t think so.’

There were a few moments of silence that was filled with tension and inaudible questions that couldn’t be answered.

‘And what you said to my parents…’ Fran smiled.

‘Oh…’ Alex strained a smile back. ‘Forget about it…’

‘No, no. I won’t forget it.’

She won’t forget it. That was bad. What will she not forget?

‘It was so sweet. You’ll take care of me forever...’

‘Yes. Yes, that’s what I said.’

That sounds like the kind of thing someone would sat after eight pints. Alex smiled to release his tension locked inside his knotted stomach, and glanced over at me.

‘My Mum thanked you for her dance too. She said you’re quite a mover!’

‘Is he? Wow, didn’t know that!’ I joined in.

‘I wanted to make a good impression.’ Alex shrugged.

‘You did.’ Fran reached for Alex’s hand. ‘And they’re coming round our flat next weekend. My Dad wants to learn some of them moves for their anniversary!’

The pop-in was unnecessary. Alex had managed to make an amazing splash on Fran’s family in one drink-filled night. It may even improve Fran’s parent’s marriage with the dance steps he will pass on.

‘We can make it a party of our own. My granddad wants another dance! Dylan, you’re invited.’ Fran smiled.

Fuck the pop-in, I’m going to stay all night! Might bring my camera too.