The Smoking Ashtray

Dave rubbed his eyes and looked again, it couldn’t be could it? Germany was a vast country, over 350000km squared, over 80 million people. Of those 80 million he only knew one and it seemed that she was sitting opposite him right now, right here outside a café on a blustery day in Augsburg. But he must be imagining it; he must be so keen to see her that he was hallucinating. Why would she be in Augsburg, a small provincial town in Bavaria? As far as he knew, she lived Hamburg - 450km away.

Dave didn’t come to Germany often, but every time he did he did he thought of her, that ‘little girl lost’ he had dated all those years ago. They’d never officially broken up, she’d gone back to Germany and they’d kind of lost touch, without ever really finishing it. He often wondered what happened to her, whether she had found that something that he had been unable to give her.

Now he watched the woman opposite, she was talking on the phone in German, animated, smiling. It certainly looked like her smile. He remembered how his Silke never really smiled in English - although she spoke it perfectly well, she never really smiled in it. She’d occasionally laugh and sometimes you might think there was a smile but it wasn't real, not like her German smile. He’d seen a different person when he’d travelled with her to Germany, smiling, laughing, joking, no longer the lost soul. Was he looking at that person now?

The woman opposite used her little finger to brush the hair from her eyes and now Dave was sure it was her, he’d watched her do that 1000 times before while reading the Independent, while watching TV or while smoking one of the million cigarettes she’d smoked in the short time they’d been together; always the little finger, always the left hand, always the right ear.

Now she lit a cigarette, inhaled and blew the smoke down her nose. His heart skipped, his stomach flipped, his imagination hadn’t blipped; that sealed the deal. He had to go over there, but what would he say and what if it wasn’t her?

Just then the waitress asked him if he was ready to order. He didn’t want to take his eyes off his girl but he looked up at the waitress and then down at the menu and tried to pronounce the kartoffel dish he had decided on.

As soon as the waitress was gone he looked back to where ‘Silke’ was sitting. But to his horror there was a void, a vacant chair; all that was left of his reunion was an empty coffee cup and a smoking ashtray.

Jindrich's Story

Through the smoke and the alcoholic stupor the lumbering figure of Jindrich heaved into view. A giant of a man, he moved with the grace of an ex-rugby player, but this being Brno it was more than likely Ice Hockey that had broken his bones and prematurely aged his gait. His greeting would be clichéd if it were not true; he really was a jolly giant, all smiles and backslaps and hearty laughs. I’d been told Jindrich was a legend around these parts; he drank beer like water and was never too far away from a glass of slivovice. The man was a beast.

After about 20 minutes of rambling conversations and random toasts, I noticed a small lapel badge on the collar of his polo shirt. It caught my attention and kept it, it couldn’t be could it? It was, it was a Dunvant RFC crest; my hometown, my team, my rugby club.

‘Where did you get that?’ I asked almost rudely.

But he was too nice to notice my brusqueness, ‘this,’ he laughed fingering the badge. ‘We were given these when we played Dunvant back in 1980.’

‘You played rugby?’ He nodded.

‘You played in Dunvant in 1980?’ 

‘Yes, 1980, tour of Wales, Dunvant, Bonymaen and Seven Sisters.’

‘No way, I’m from Dunvant.’

We chatted a little about it being a small world and coincidences and then he continued to reminisce.

 ‘It was a great tour but Dunvant was our favourite. I remember so well that they were amazed at how much we drank. And the women. Your Welsh women.’ He laughed a dirty laugh that suggested he had sampled the wares on offer. He shifted his body into storytelling position. 

‘We were little Czech boys’ he said, ‘20/ 21. It was communism you remember. The West was an alien world to us and the girls were like predators. 4 of them chose 4 of us and took us to a club in Swansea; a huge place, underground.’

I smiled, he was describing the very club I had misspent my youth in.

‘We danced and drank. At one stage they told the DJ we were Czech rugby players and when he announced it, the whole place gave us a standing ovation. Everyone in the club wanted to say hello, shake our hands, buy us a drink but the  girls wouldn’t leave us alone. I kissed all 4 of them but one, one was special, she was Liz, hmm I liked Liz.’ A glazed look came over his eyes as he remembered a long lost love with genuine fondness. Meanwhile, a distant memory was climbing out of my sub-conscious like a chick hatching from an egg.

‘We stayed in touch for a while and I dreamed of running away but then …’ Jindrich’s voice trailed off with a sense of regret.

I left a respectful silence and took advantage of his reverie to send a text message to see if my hatching memory was real.

When he’d recovered his composure, we talked a little more about rugby and Wales and the greats of the 70’s. Jindrich certainly knew his stuff; Edwards, Bennett, John and Price. I was willing my phone to buzz but it stubbornly remained silent as he recalled his visit to the old Arms Park. It was a lovely conversation, one I’d never thought I’d have in a smoky Czech pub.

Finally my phone buzzed. My sister had come up with the goods. I smiled at the photo she’d sent, he might have been 33 years older but that smile was unmistakable.

‘Jindrich, I might have a surprise for you.’ I said enjoying playing Cilla Black. ‘Look at this.’

He looked at the picture and tears welled in the big man’s eyes.

‘Where did you get this?’ He looked at me like I had managed to burgle his mind.

‘That’s Liz and that’s me.’ He pointed at two of the 8 people in the photo.

‘And that’s my sister I said pointing at Liz. The memory was fully hatched now, my sister had been smitten for about six months by a Czech rugby player. I’d completely forgotten about it and even when he’d started telling the story my brain was slow to work because the boy she ‘loved’ was Henry. But then the penny dropped; Henry was the anglicised version of Jindrich.  

6 Degrees of Separation

Lana had read that everyone was linked in 6 steps, six degrees of separation they called it.  She’d never really believed before but now she did.

Aled often went on little holidays without her, off with the boys or a few days on his own. Lana kidded herself that it made the relationship stronger; absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that malarkey. She tried not to think what he was up to and tried to enjoy the time to herself; pampering herself a little, buying some new clothes or taking her time over coffee and cake.

But those clothes seemed tainted now and she felt sick just thinking about the cake. Those little weekends away certainly were making the relationship stronger, just a shame it wasn't hers.
It was Lucy who alerted Lana to what was going on, Lucy’s husband’s friend Hannah had commented on a photo on Facebook, that comment had caused the photo to appear on Lucy’s husband’s timeline and catching a glimpse of that appearance over her husband’s shoulder had made Lucy's jaw drop.
Lucy agreed with Hannah's comment; Katie really did seem to be having a good time but she was having that good time with Aled.
Lucy broke the news to Lana as gently as possible but no matter how velvet the glove the iron fist still hurt like hell.
After the hurt came the anger, after the anger came the embarrassment and after that the hysterics, well when I say after, but to be honest they mostly ran concurrently. It had taken her a while to get a clear head and decide what to do. But now she was calm. She calmly packed her bags and left, it was time for a break up, a divorce, a separation, six degrees of separation if you like.

Seating Policies - A Steve Rant

‘So you know what pisses me off about travelling alone?’ Steve said in between swigs of beer.
Johnny didn't but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
‘Restaurant seating policies,’ Steve answered his own question.
‘They never want to give you a table cos there is only one of you. You are clogging up one of their places. They are terrified a bigger party might come in and then you’re in the way.’
Johnny nodded and wiped away some of Steve’s spittle that inadvertantly had landed on his cheek.
‘Then, they give you a table in the dingiest, darkest corner of the restaurant.’
‘Didn’t you rant about this when you came back from Ukraine?’
‘I might have done it’s an on going theme. You get it in cafes too, as soon as you finish your coffee they want you of there out, but… but people in groups can sit round an empty latte glass forever.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed that.’ Johnny was shocked he’d been allowed to get a word in edge ways.
‘Anyway I was in this place last week’ Steve’s generosity hadn’t lasted long, ‘and there was a table free, I could see it, but they said there weren’t any. When I pointed to the empty table they said oh it’s for 4.’
‘Oh I see. Fair enough I suppose.’
‘No, not fair enough, not fair enough at all.’
Johnny had to wipe his face again.
‘It was exactly the same size as the one I’d had the night before. It just had 4 chairs round it. It was a table for however many they wanted it to be.’
‘So what did you do.’
‘Well they’d ask me to wait 10 minutes, I told them I’d have that table or go somewhere else.’

‘You’re terrible.’

‘No I’m not, I was just standing up for myself. Anyway you could see them doing the calculations in their head. One guaranteed cover or the potential but not the guarantee of 4 covers.’

‘And?’
‘Well they let me have the table, grudgingly. But then the service was terrible.’
‘I’m not surprised they ignored you if you’d been mardy with them. I’d have done the same.’

‘Ignored me? Quite the opposite, they didn’t leave me alone, everything was whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. I wanted a nice leisurely meal. They wanted me out of there ASAP.’

‘So I presume you resisted.’ ‘Of course I did, they didn’t know who they were messing with.’ Steve smiled and Johnny couldn’t help but follow suit. ‘I’ve never made a pizza last so long.’

‘Another beer?’ Johnny asked, it was pretty obvious the rant had run its natural course but going to the bar would kill it off once and for all. 

Update 23/11
Do you think the someone from the Guardian is reading my blog?
http://www.theguardian.com/money/2013/nov/22/price-of-being-single

Lotte's narrow escape.

Lotte’s mum lit a cigarette and Lotte leaned in to inhale the smoke her mother exhaled. She craved her own cigarette but it was impossible in front of her mum and dad who probably knew she smoked but would never allow her to do it in front of them.
As she felt the second hand nicotine hit her blood she felt some fingers on her spine and was aware of a gaggle of boys around their table. 

‘Hey good to see you,’ the boy with the fingers said.

Lotte and her mum and dad looked up from their meal with a ‘who the hell are you looks’ etched on their faces.
‘Sorry, I thought you were someone else,’ the boy said quickly before hotfooting it away from the scene of the crime.
Her dad was laughing, he called the boys jokers and started telling stories about things he did when he was their age. But Lotte squirmed in her seat, so nearly caught! She felt herself flush as she tried to avoid her mum and dad's gaze. Feeling his fingers on her back had sent a shock wave through her body and had turned the clock back 21 hours.
At 17 she really was too old for holidays with her mum and dad, at home on a Saturday night they'd let her go out with her friends where she'd smoke and drink till all hours. But here they wouldn't allow her to go out alone. So, when she was sure they were asleep, she'd snuck out and gone to the disco that she’d read about being full of summer school students.
Hans was at the bar when she ordered her Bacardi Breezer. He’d smiled his Harry Styles smile at her. Man he was cute! It wasn't long before they were kissing and he had his paws in places no one had ever touched her before. Hans by name hands by nature. When she said she had to go, he walked her home and she could tell he wanted to come in, but with her parents next door and paper-thin walls and gossipy hotel staff she just couldn't risk it. So they left it there with promises of Facebook friends. 

Lotte’s father was wondering aloud what 'joke' the lads would play at the next family they saw.
But Lotte knew this wasn’t a joke. When Hans had touched her it wasn’t who the hell are you writ large on her face but what the hell are you doing here? Luckily he’d read her well and thinking quickly had played the mistaken identity card. Her parents had bought it, her mother was now joking that he wasn't a bad looking lad and it was a shame he thought she was someone else. Meanwhile Lotte's heart rate was beginning to get back to normal. 

Last night on holiday

Was that smile for me? Annie thought to herself, she looked again in the direction of the bashful smile. She decided that it was, she smiled back tentatively. He was cute, well-dressed, and had sweet dimples and a body that had a taken a lot of effort. It was the last night of her holiday and it certainly had some potential. Annie moved closer. her body language inviting him to do the same. ‘Hi I’m Hay.’ He said. He had a delicious accent, Annie smiled, this was going to be fun. 

Hay was a weird name thought Annie, probably short for Javier.  He was wonderful, a real gent, he bought her drinks, asked her questions, listened to her answers and made her laugh and, and that accent and those dimples and that body. He talked about clothes and fashion and really seemed tuned into her. Annie kind of wished she could find such a perfect man at home. 

Annie really knew she was putting it on a plate, she was normally a lot harder to get, but tonight was the last night of her holiday and so there was no time to lose on silly games, no third date rule, it was tonight or never. Her friends were all smiles and waves, encouraging her, amazed and just a little jealous that their friend had pulled such a fit bloke, he was the pick of the men in the club, so handsome, so well dressed and that body. She smiled at them and then suggested to Hay that they go find a quiet spot on the beach. He nodded his agreement and they disappeared. 

They’d been on the beach for a good thirty minutes and he still had made his move, the conversation was great but she hadn't come out in the moonlight to listen to him talk about his friends and his dog. She was going to have to make the move for him.  She twisted her body, touched his face and lent in to kiss him. He recoiled like he was being attacked by a cobra, shock in his eyes, fear in his face. 

‘What?’ Said Annie more than a little perturbed, no man had ever looked quite so scared when she went to kiss him. ‘I thought...’ 
 ‘I’m so sorry,’ Hay was now blushing profusely, ‘I'm Hay!’ 
 ‘I know who you are, now kiss me.’ 
 ‘No, Hay, homosexual, I like men. I told you, I’m Hay.’ 
 Annie couldn't believe it. It was her turn to blush. What on earth was she going to tell her friends?

Enjoy Yourself

Jeff already knew how the night would end, there may or may not be thrillless sex with one of the groupies but there'd certainly be a long empty sleepless night waiting for the speed to wear off enough to allow him at least an hour's shut eye before it was time to load up the van and move on again. He took a swig from his bottle of beer, he'd long ago given up on sampling the local stuff, instead going for the generic crap, that was consistent and he could trust. The band were just finishing setting up, he barely knew this incarnation of the Gilders, talented musicians all of them, but just kids, they were more chess club than rock and roll. They kept themselves to themselves and after the gig they locked themselves away with their Facebook and World of Warcraft or whatever it was they played. He was the only original member left now; gradually the others had all given up and got 'proper jobs'. Even some of the first replacements had moved on. He used to dream of making it, now he dreamed of getting the band back together, while they dreamed of paying the mortgage and putting their kids through school. He saw them occasionally, they were still friends but he could see pity in their eyes. He lit another cigarette defying the smoking ban and inhaled deeply. It was his 43rd birthday, what was he doing still playing the same old mediocre songs night after night? This was the 25th anniversary tour. 25 years, a whole generation of kids had danced to his skateboard ska. The fact that the crowd remained 18 amazed Jeff. They kept being discovered by kids who looked the same as he did when he was their age.  It was almost time for the sound check, that wouldn't take long; this was the smallest room they'd played. The rooms were getting smaller and smaller, the crowds sparser and sparser. Conversely with the new musicians the music was getting better and better but despite the hard-core fan base and the curious they were never going to get mass appeal. He'd often though of quitting too, of moving on, but what else did he know? What else could he do? He was a guitarist in a rock and roll band, that's who he was?
They always finished with the same song, a cover of Enjoy Yourself. They did that nice little bit were each band member introduced themselves and saying how they would enjoy themselves. Jeff noticed that none of the kids in the band said tonight I'm going to enjoy myself by checking my status update and chatting to my mum on Skype, but there you go they had to give the image of the rock star. Andy on bass always started the little speaking bit, it might have looked spontaneous but actually it was well rehearsed. But tonight Andy went off script.
'Hi my name's Andy and Tonight I am going to enjoy myself by introducing John James on Drum… Mike Richards on trombone… Paul Gilder on trumpet… and Bryn Lewis on Bass,' Jeff couldn't believe his eyes or ears, as Andy spoke, new musicians appeared on stage and seamlessly took over from their counterparts. 'Ladies and Gentlemen to celebrate Jeff Gilder's birthday and 25 years of the band give it up for the original line up.' With that Andy left the stage and let the original Gilders take over. Tears welled in Jeff's eyes but there was no time for that, it as time to rock.
'Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think' he belted out.
The band sounded terrible, his voice sounded emotional but he didn't care, no he didn't give a fuck, for one night, one night only he felt like he was playing Wembley.