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print friendly version
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English Slacker chapter eighteen |
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By chrismorton
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05 June 2008 |
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As soon as I got in the pub I spotted Colin sitting by himself at one of the tables by the windows to the left side of the bar. There was this stream of light coming in through the glass behind him and he had his back to me. His hair was different ‘cause, well he’d obviously shaved it all off, and I remember the light from the window was reflecting off his scalp, which looked kinda weird; but all the same I recognised him straight away.
I got a drink first rather than go over there to say, “Hi,” immediately ‘cause I didn’t wanna seem too like, I dunno, grateful for him being there I suppose; I guess I wanted to play it cool and that.
I asked the barman for a Fosters, who was this middle-aged guy with sweaty hair combed across what was obviously a balding head and he grunted at me in disapproval as though I was some young student type who didn’t appreciate real beer or something – I’m not really that much of a beer connoisseur: the Fosters tap was in front of me so I just asked for that – and he took ages ‘cause he was talking to this old guy who was sitting at the bar next to me and opposite him: I don’t remember what they were talking about. Actually I wasn’t listening. I needed the time to think about what I was gonna say to Colin.
I reckon there were just four of us in the pub at that point. There was no music playing, the voices of the barman and the old man were like echoing and the noise of my pint being poured was pretty loud.
I remember it was then as I was waiting at the bar that I noticed that the fizzing sound had disappeared. I turned to look at Colin and I swear he was smiling – although I can’t be sure ‘cause he still had his back to me. But you know how sometimes you can tell when someone is smiling even when you can’t see their face. |
Written by bluecity (373 comments posted) 9th July 2008 | Ah! Something does happen in the pub. I really think Chapters 16 and 17 might have been combined into one - especially as they are both so short!
Quote:
I asked the barman for a Fosters who was this middle-aged guy with sweaty hair combed across what was obviously a balding head and he grunted at me in disapproval as though I was some young student type who didn’t appreciate real beer or something – I’m not really that much of a beer connoisseur: the Fosters tap was in front of me so I just asked for that – and he took ages ‘cause he was talking to this old guy who was sitting at the bar next to me and opposite him: I don’t remember what they were talking about.
This sentence is too long, Chris! Also, was the Fosters the middle-aged guy with sweaty hair? And you have a dash in this sentence and a colon. I think you need to redraft it.
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There was no music playing, the voices of the barman and the old man were like echoing and the noise of my pint being poured was pretty loud.
I'm getting a great bit of atmosphere here, but you could've done a bit more with it. Perhaps remark on the silence, not the absence of music.
Liked the last bit, when you could sense Colin smiling, without seeing it.
Rosemary
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