‘Here, take a swig of fear! That will get your oven going, fire you up, all this talk of false love is depressing, let’s get too and go to the pub.’ With that, Mango took a tan of the beer handed by Benjamin, both stood up from the bench, walked off through the Park heading for the Church on the Hill. Pub was heaving warm with bodies. Everyone was drinking, talking it up, cackles in the background. They took a table in the corner; Ben went to the bar, ordered two beers, Mango sat down, took off his coat, put his head in his hands and sighed bewildered. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?
Benjamin sat down, passed the pint and took a large gulp from his glass. ‘Sweet cold…’ He said, satisfied, the fizz of the tang. ‘Aye…’ Agreed Mango half-heartedly, head cast downward, making no eye contact, completely sour. ‘What’s the blues with you, Mango? Fuck sake! You’re so moody.’ ‘I, a know! I’m raging that’s why! Raging about Kate and that Eric cunt, what the fuck man! This is bad, bad fucking news. I’m stunned she’s cut-me-out, ditched me, cold as ice she is, bitch! Came out of the blue, no expectation, she just calls, says she’s been with Eric and is going to live with him and then hangs up. That’s fucking outrageous, Man!! Course I’m in the blues, worse than that…I could fucking kill the bastards! Humiliated, yet again…she must have been laughing behind my back for weeks! Months! Her and her wee blue collar boyfriend shagging in our bed for all I know…! Furious, absolutely furious…No Decency!’
Ben moves awkwardly in his chair, trying to find the right words, to calm him down, to console Mango in some way. Mango was talking with a serious stare, primed for the issue, he wanted to talk it all out, all the angles, motivations, intentions, the pre-planned lies and improvised bluffing. Mango took a hold of his pint and downed it rapidly. His words had brought him around, gave him a new alertness. ‘I’ll get in the next pints…we should phone the rest of the boys down! Get a wee crowd going?’ ‘Aye, good idea, and here we can talk about this relationship crisis after, just relax and we can think this through tomorrow. Let’s just get few beers, night with the lads, take counsel from a good night out!’
Mango nods, smiles, walks to the bar, orders two of the finest pints, and a wee vodka chaser, while he waits for them to be poured. Ben goes outside for a smoke, Mangos downs his vodka, pays up for the pints, and walks outside to stand with Mango. ‘Not so cold out here is it? Na, it’s not at all actually…bit humid. Nice night’ Mango hands out the pints, they tan and smoke, and talk about Kate, how much of an ice maiden she was, a poisoned mermaid, and Eric a sleaze ball professional, will get what’s coming to him! They laugh. Tan the cool nectar, and smoke away, breathing puffs of white up into the air. They go back inside, order some more pints, finish off the previous pints, and start again. They were working up a thirst indeed.
Ben fired off a couple of rounds of text messages: ‘Head doon 2 the hill!’Hopefully folk would be up for it! Get some more of the boys down, fire up the chat, ease off the heat of Mangos fucking Divorce! Jesus! They gulped down the pints. Ben grabbed a couple more Mango made over to the jukebox to but on some tunes. All shite! But he selected some anyway – Jimi Hendrix, Stones, Dylan – general Guitar music. The sound burst on, the sound was loud, Mango nodded in agreement, sat back down, tanned his beer. ‘Here, did you catch that programme on the tele about the guy who could singing like Pavarotti but looked like the hunchback of Notre dame? Funny as fuck man…the guy was brilliant…blew everyone miles away! Women weeping, folk stunned, everyone moved or something.
‘No, never seen it, sounds nuts but…just some normal guy with just as much quality as a pro…you forget it’s possible. Maybe if I was a top quality singer Kate would have stayed with me, swooned by my style, my initiative, my god given abilities. Lot of shite! Well, I decided to get my trade when I left school, nothing wrong with that, I work hard, bloody good plumber, put the hours in. You can sing till the Cows come home but you’ll never drown with a plumber around!’ He laughed a little, caught up in his thoughts; he eyes the pint affectionately before gulping it down. Mango goes to buy a pair of pints, and he thinking playfully to himself:
A pair a pints sitting on a wall,
A pair a pints both half-full,
Two pints of pears, two pints of fear,
Two electric soups for starters
Followed by apples and pears!
Mango hits the bar, the barmaid looks too him, she is about his ages, attractive buxom, he looks at her, smiles, asks with animation for two pints of beer and two vodka chasers. They come swiftly; he grabs them, heads to the table and hands out the drink. ‘Hear anything from anyone yet…?’ ‘Aye, few folk are heading down, Tam and Sally are on their way, Bruce and G will be down later, so we’ve got that for starters at least, hopefully few others will attend. ‘So, you seem to be in decent spirits Mango! It’s all good.’ ‘Aye, so far, but I’m still raging, can’t quite come to think about it thoroughly. I’m seething quietly.’ ‘Well, deal with it best, you’ve only found out few hours ago, it’s a look to take in, I lot to iron out, and you’ve go plenty of time for ironing out this disaster. ‘‘Aye, fuck it. Fancy going out for another smoke…?’ They both head out for a smoke, pints in hand, heads in mind, thoughts fusing.
‘You know what I love, these calm summer nights, humid, sky all lit up, folk out enjoying themselves. Despite what’s happened, I’m in a decent sort of mood.’ ‘Aye Ben, fuck sake, but you’ve no the one been ditched…but aye, it is a nice atmosphere tonight…but I’m outside of that…It’s like a hangover, lurking in me, on my back. Fuck it.’ He lets out a gasp and stretches and exhales to the air, tans his pin down proud. ‘Here, we could head into town if you want, see what Tam Sally and that are saying to it. Later like…’ ‘Na, can’t be fucked with that shite tonight, up for getting blotto here mind. All night if need be. A bit of let go, you know what I mean!?’ They saunter back into the pub. Ben orders some more beers. Chats to the bar maid: fine night, working late, nay luck. Ben brings the beer over. ‘You were chatting up the maid Ben, weren’t you?’ ‘No, I was not, I was just being polite.’ Aye, Aye, mango smirked, whatever you say. Maybe I should try my luck…’ ‘Ha, ha, maybe you shouldn’t…’ Ben joked.
The door opens, Tam and Sally, walk him, Sally waves; Tam nods his head and pulls his hands out of his pockets. ‘Awright Boy’s, how do in this fine Sunday! What brings you out after the weekend…?’ They all say hello, sit down, and order drinks. ‘Where’s Kate, Mango? She not out with you tonight?’ No, No…she’s not with me tonight…’ Mango replies apprehensively. ‘She’s busy, away to her Mothers. Ben cringes in his seat and quickly make talk. ‘So, you up for a few drinks tonight then, think Bruce and a few others might be heading along soon two. Let’s drink up tae summer!’ They all drink up; chatting away; Ben and Mango are tipsy, getting their fast, to the drunken state. Sally notices a few of her colleagues from the supermarket. The boys banter away, talking about a comedy show they had all seen at different times on the previous week, it involved the discussion of Thai Brides and desperate losers looking for a pathetic kind of bought love, a love of the deluded unstable kind, of the desperate, the lonely! They laughed it up though; it undercut the mark, how low people could stoop in humiliation.
They lapped it all up. The bar was busy – warm nest – waves of talk and laughs and immaculate nonsense. Sally came back with June, her colleague, the boys knew June, they said hello, the gabbed about work, Spain Corfu ‘Ibiza: Never Again’, Sally asked Mango about Kate, said she hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, he should call her, bring her down, get her unshackled and out! She laughed. Mango sniggered in annoyance. ‘No, no…she is at her Mothers…won’t be back for a while…’ ‘Why’s she at her Mothers? You had a fall through.’ Sally said fall through, not fall out, as if people fall through each other and not out with! She was a right dotty one was Sally. Kate didn’t fall through the floor boards. She ran out the fucking door and slammed it good. ‘No, we’re fine, for god’s sake, what’s your problem? I’m just out with Benjamin, getting a few jars.’ ‘Fair enough, sorry, I don’t mine to pry.’ ‘You’re no prying, there’s nothing wrong.’ Mango got up quick and walked to the puggy machine to gamble some coins and get away from Sally.
Mango slotted down some pound coins. ‘Bring it on’ – he thought! The machine slashed in a carnival of light. The wheels spun: orange, strawberry, beer! Cherries, Pound Sign, beer! They spun and stopped: three strawberries! The machine sang out his winning, flashing and sounding off: Bing! Bing, Bing! Out popped seven quid. Enough for another round! Minor luck, cooled, major failure. ‘Another round fair table’ Mango gestured to them all, they all nodded in agreement, waved, and smiled. He ordered a round for the table: beer, wine, vodka! He pulled out some notes, handed some pound coins over, and awkwardly grabbed some of the drinks, and ushered them to the table, grabbed some more, brought them, dropping one on the floor beside June, who shrieked in exaggerated alarm as the drink splashed her bag and ankle. ‘Aye…! Shit! My good bag and my good trousers…thanks a lot Mango…fir fucks sake! Be more careful.’ Mango was taken aback. ‘Sorry love, I had to juggle a table of drinks, if you’d helped maybe I’d I’ve no dropped it. ‘Aye, aye…calm down you two…dropped drinks are nothing new…just get a cloth and damp it down.’ Mango got a cloth, passed it to June, mumbled sorry and sat down – June was a girl who could mouth off when she wanted too. Mango let out an irritated huff and sunk his beer.
Sally started up, telling the table: ‘Tam and I are going to Corfu a fortnight on Monday, for three weeks, can’t bloody wait, get out of Glasgow for a bit, see the sun, the sand, good to just be in a different atmosphere for a bit, let your hair down, live it up! You lot got any plans for the summer.’ Ben replied: I’m planning to go up North, see the old dears in Oban! Other than that a summer a work and drink and long nights, I hope.’ ‘As ever…’ joked Tam. ‘I’m doing fuck all this summer…absolutely fuck-all-doing here or anywhere!’ Mango replied cynical. ‘Fuck sake Mango, what’s up with your face? You seem off tonight. You, been attacking the beer keg again! haha’ Tam was being jocular but Mango wasn’t feeling the best of jokers tonight. ‘Fuck sake, I’m fine, had a few, taking it easy….’ ‘You’re missing Kate, aren’t you, you big softy!’ Sally joked. ‘Aw, you’re a sweet heart Mango!’ The table laughed. Mango got up to go for a piss. ‘What is up with him Ben?’
Mango went to the urinal – pissed a pleasant stream. He was drunk, bit blurry: Wish she’d stop prying! Can’t say a thing! Humiliating! That bitch, and that small prick Eric, toffs! Cunt! I thought we could have been married…Jesus, eight months, it’s not forever but it’s a good start. We seemed to get along…Fuck! Pulled out from under me, everything, Fuck Sake! Cunt – Cunt – Cunt! He was working himself up. Look Mango, we’ve been cold for months now, she says, Weeks, have you not been feeling it, you don’t call, you’re distant, you’re not affectionate, and people happen to each other, for a reason! And, we’ve got to move on…What a cliché! What a script! ‘O, we’ve got to move on, I’m sucking on Eric’s cock, more like’ Cow!
Mango finishes pissing, thumbs the wall with the ball of his hand and walks out. There is a drunk at a standing table near the toilet entrance, he’s staggering to the bar, he passes Mango, and pushes into him, intentional or otherwise, they both fly back into the counter. ‘Yaaa, fucking bastard yee!’ Shouts the drunk – gravely voice, slurring. ‘Fuckin’ leech!’ He shouts. They fumble against each other, the drunk raises his fist, brings it crashing upon Mangos right cheek. He knees Mango in the balls, good and hard, Mango falls to the ground, coughs and holds the pain in his balls. He grabs the drunk’s ankle, he yanks him down to the ground and lays into his belly. An electric bolt flies around he pub, most look on at the spectacle, gasp, nervously watch behind heads. The barmaid shouts: ‘Right, enough!’ And walks out at the two men on the ground, to bring them to bare.
The drunk is now on top of Mango punching him, not powerful punches, but tough hooks, tough stuns to the face – they’ll bruise maybe, delicate for sure! Mango is bleeding. He makes one last surge and flips the drunk off of him and he lays back into the drunk. Two guys try to split them up but Mango is fuelled with adrenalin, equally the drunk man, they are both up for it. Mango lunges to his feet, and falls into a table, it crashes over, glass smashes. Mango lifts the table high and tries to bring it crashing upon the drunks back, the crowd gasp, and move, he flings the table badly and it crash to the floor, smashes into pieces and shards. ‘You fucking auld cunt, you’ve picked me out, on the wrong fucking day pal! You’ve kick the wrong bull in the fucking balls!’ Mango speech is fuming, gruff, predatory. He grabs some pint glass and smashes one over the drunks head. It gashes the head open. The drunk clutches his head and moans. Tam and Ben hear the chaos and realise immediately what has happened, they run to grab Mango from his frenzy, but the drunk is standing and laying punches into Mango now. They are tearing lumps, the barmaid is helpless and on the phone to the police. The ground has diminished and most watch and stare or drink in shock, waiting for an end. They are finally split apart. Both dripping blood from head wounds and body wounds: They are exhausted. They have to be pulled apart. The floor of the pub is covered in glass, wood, blood. Tam and Ben drag Mango out, as Mango shouts: You fucking prick! You’re a fucking cheating scumbag, a fucking gutter loser! I’ve fucking have you!!’ He balls this out red in the face, frantic!
‘Jesus Christ Mango, what did you start? You’ve been fuelled since we arrived. What the fuck have you started?’ Tam is convinced Mango has started to fight. So is Ben. Sally and June is still in the pub at the table, talking t the barmaid, telling of Mangos moodiness. The barmaid didn’t see it happen. Terrible: too much drink. Drives people to violence: red mist. Serious issues: people should know their limits. Bloody near psychotic, at times! Tam and Ben don’t know if they should wait for the Police, the drunk was off anyway, fuck knows were he got too. The barmaid could press charges for damage. Mango might get done for violent assault and drunk and disorderly.
‘I didn’t fucking start this you fucking Idiot! She fucking did. He fucking lay right into me like a fucking bouncy Castle, punched all over me.’ Mango was slurring and shouting this out. He made little sense. We sat him down. Things had gotten hysterical fast. Mango was out of it. He needed tidied up. He needed bed. He needed to iron his head out. He would wake up clueless. ‘Fucking cunts, all of you fucking…Manipulators…Fucking Whores!’