Steve Rant - Sharing rooms

As soon as Johnny saw Steve sitting at the table ripping up a beer mat he knew he was in for an earful. Johnny wondered what was on Steve’s mind today, it could be anything. He braced himself and approached the table.

‘Hi Steve how you doing?’

‘Don’t even ask.’ There was a time, thought Johnny, when Steve at least had some kind words to say before he launched one of his tirades but these days there didn’t seem to be time for niceness. At least there was a fresh pint waiting for him to ease the pain. He took a deep breath, sat down and took a gulp of lager.

‘So what’s up?’

‘Well, you know how I hate our staff meetings?’

‘You’ve mentioned it once or twice yes.’ Johnny had forgotten that Steve had been to a staff meeting, it certainy explained the rage.

‘Well, this one was even worse, do you know what they did? They made us share bedrooms. At least up until now when they take us to some god forsaken place for three pointless days of bickering they have given us the dignity of single rooms but this time no. Single rooms are too good for us, this time I had to share.’

‘Ouch, I hate sharing rooms.’

‘So do I, I want the freedom to snore, fart, belch and scratch when I escape from my colleagues.’

‘I know what you mean.’ Johnny agreed.

‘Not that I do any of those you understand, but I just want the freedom to, if the need arises.’

Johnny smiled, not believing a word of it.

‘But to make it worse, I had to share with Graham.’ Steve often did this, talked about a character from work thinking that Johnny knew him.  ‘You know the guy with the black Audi.’ Johnny shrugged, still none the wiser. ‘And God can he talk? Rabbit rabbit rabbit, whinge, whinge, whinge moan, moan moan.’

Johnny looked at his friend, this was a case of the pot calling the kettle a metallic grey if ever he had heard it, but Steve seemed to be oblivious to his hypocrisy.

‘And of course all the chat was about work, so I worked all day and talked work over dinner and then heard all his complaints about work once I’d retired to my room.’

‘That isn’t great.’ Johnny sympathised.

‘Not great? That’s a fucking understatement. It was fucking terrible.’

‘And, get this he's the biggest snorer in the whole world.’

‘What worse than you?’

‘Oi don’t be cheeky, three bloody nights, I reckon I slept 5 hours total. I’m shattered.’

‘Well I’m glad you managed to drag your knackered body to the pub, I’m honoured. Want another beer?’

Steve looked at his empty glass and nodded momentarily freeing Johnny from his purgatory.