Caught in a Trap

Admittedly there are worse places to be trapped. In fact I’m pretty sure that many would agree that a pub on a Friday night is probably the best place to get stuck. I’d also wager that to others there is little difference. I’m talking about those that, for all intent of purpose, give the impression that they are stuck there but chose to stay of their own free will. Well at least until the landlord starts to lock up and has to resort to throwing then out into the street because dripping hints like yawning and declaring ‘Gosh is that the time?’ had no effect.

We certainly didn’t fall into the later category, and whilst we can’t say we were held against our will there were certainly exceptional circumstances that lead to us drinking more that we should’ve and having to resort to a kebab for our evening meal. Like most misadventures, it all started so innocently....

Our usual pattern on a Friday night, or at least one that has certainly become a habit if we’re not jetting off somewhere, is that after work we will meet up and enjoy a few drinks whilst the stress of the week ebbs away and the weekend eases into view. This is usually followed by a movie, if there is anything worth seeing, or a slow walk home via the pizzeria. I’m sure you’ll agree that’s a pretty pleasant way to welcome in the weekend. 

This Friday, however things were nudged slightly off track by the fact that one of us had to work later than usual. Nothing spectacular but by enough time to make us change our routine and meet at the bar near our house rather than one further up the hill. A pretty innocuous change. Or at least we thought it was.

Unusually for a Friday, our local bar was particularly quite with just a few small groups of people enjoying a quiet and convivial drink. Maybe it was because it was the start of the school holidays or maybe the damp weather had put people off venturing outside. Either way the pub was quiet so we grabbed a couple of drinks and sat down at a corner table and chatted about the events of the day.

In fact we were so deep in conversation that we hadn’t noticed that what few people there were had finished their drinks and left. Just as I was about to remake once again on the quietness.....

“Hello there, we’re filling in for the usual band and this is the first time we’ve actually cleared a room before we’ve even started to play”, a voice boomed over the bar’s PA system and then added “In fact it’s the first time we’ve actually played to an empty room!”

Not wanting to upset any feelings, we realised that now was our chance to escape and grab a bite to eat. They obviously hadn’t seen us in the shadowed  corner table. We could just slope off and exit by the side door.....

“Nah, there’s a couple in the corner over there”,  said the bar man and just to reinforce his statement pointed straight at us.

“Phew, our honour is intact. Well there’s no point in sitting there, come up closer”, the lead singer said and motioned for us to sit at the table right in front of the band. 

“Crap!”, I said under my breath although a little too loud that I became worried that I may have been overheard.

Being British, we did what were were told and took our drinks and sat right in front of the band. 

“The last time this happened we got very, very drunk!”, Sarah cautioned. 

She was right. The last time this had happened we were in Thirsk and watching one part of the Wonder Stuff perform in a tiny venue. Our poison that night was red wine and the following day was a blur. This did not bode well. Determined that lightning wouldn’t strike twice, I regulated my imbidement.... just in case.

At this point I feel that I need to point out that our entertainment for the night was not new to us. Not at all. You see, they were regular performers in our other local where they play rock and jazz standards on a Sunday afternoon. We have been known to while away an hour or two, sat in the afternoon sunshine, sipping beer and listening to two talented musicians going through their repertoire. Usually with several dozen likeminded souls. 

Not this time, we were on our own and formed the entire audience, except for the two bar keepers, who busied themselves presumably for the surge in patronage which showed little sign of showing up. Of course we weren’t physically held there but every atom in our British being screamed STAY WHERE YOU ARE! The last thing we wanted to do was to hurt the feelings of strangers by getting up and leaving. That could only be interpreted as us not liking their musical skills or thinking that they were poor examples of the human race. At least this how our British upbringing would’ve interpreted the situation. So there we were. Stuck. The force of British etiquette kept us welded to our seats. Nothing, short of an earthquake, would make us get up and leave now. And even then it would have to beer a pretty strong shake. At least we were entertained as the songs flowed from the musicians and the beer from the bar taps. 

“What kind of music do you like, any requests?” the singer asked. Not wanting to push the boundaries of audience participation too far we suggested they were on the right track and kept listening. And drinking. Well it was hard not to as rock and blues standards, skilfully played, followed one another as the captivated captive audience sat spellbound. Well we were either spellbound or simply too afraid to move for fear of the singer asking “and just where do you think you’re going?”.

Speaking of the singer, he was clearly enjoying himself as beer followed beer and his inter-song dialogue got ruder and swearier as the night wore on, probably sharing more personal facts than he would have otherwise liked. Judging by the expression on the guitarists face this was not an unusual condition for his partner to be in and he was actually surprise that he was still sat on his stool.

“Right folks, we’re going to take a short break and we’ll be back with the second part of the set.”

Now was our chance. The singer had popped out for a cigarette and the guitarist was at the bar. It was make or break time so we gulped down the last of our beers and......

“Hi guys, thanks for listening to us,” the guitarist said, plonking his beer down at the table before unnecessarily adding, “it’s quieter in here than we would like”. Drat. Oh, well might as well buy another beer then.....

After a short conversation the signer returned to the room and once again they sat at their stools and picked up where they left off with a storming cover of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright”. Thankfully, as the second set played out, the room finally started to fill as people people braved the wet weather and bought drinks. A couple even sat at our table making us less like rabbits-caught-in-headlights and more like willing audience members.

We could have left there and then but what the heck, we were dry, sat at a table, being entertained by talented musicians whose musical tastes were not a million miles from ours and the bar was almost at arms length from where we sat. Besides, we were already on the tipsy side of drunk so getting up and leaving now wasn’t going to change that.

As the band launched into another song, a Rolling Stones classic,  we bought another beer.

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need....”

Indeed. Couldn’t have put it better myself......