join us at the joiners

Johnny, though quietly charming and super intelligent, was short and rather squat. “that top shows your tits” Mikey nicely pointed out, an example of the honesty he prided himself on. Johnny pulled a weak smile, hoping to show he took it in the jovial matey-bitchy manner it was meant in, but at the same time rather quite distraught – they’d reached the bar now and he’d wished his famous will to honesty had prompted him to mention this whilst eh could still change. He went to the bathroom to see if he could stretch the tshirt out at all – it was from American apparel and so quite malleable. He just ended up making it a weird shape, and only really stretched out at the bottom, so it made a kind of pelmet hanging off his belly. It was really busy as usual at the joiners, uncortably so, and it took Johnny a full 25 minutes to gets erved. Mikey had done rather soon, indeed he had sipped a fair amount of his pint even by the time Johnny emerged from the bathroom. By the time Johnny found mikey, once he had gotten his own pint, his friend was draining his glass and expressed annoyance that Johnny ahdnt bothered to get one for him whilst he was there. He was talking to a cute guy with bleach blonde hair and the kind of oversized t shirt that only looked good on people who were’nt actually oversized. Johnny interrupted this guy mid flow and offered his hand “I’m Johnny,” “hey!” said blondie “I’m Stephen. Nice to meet you! Anyone wanna go out for a smoke?” producing a box of fags and walking to the door. He had a friendly easiness Johnny liked. He went to follow them – Mikey was walking to the door too – but then realized he had almost a full pint, and they didn’t let you outside with drinks. He gulped it down – well as much as he could, leaving a third on the side. He rushed out, delayed by a bottleneck at the door. Once he found the guys in the throng outside they were almost done with their fags. Johnny noticed Mike’s hand on blondie’s arse. Quick work he thought. He’s cute though! Good work, Mikey! He got a fag out, grabbed a light from Mikey, then waved them off back inside (they rushed in once they heard a song come on Johnny didn’t recognize. He crossed his arm across his belly, the other holding the fag resting on it, a pose he recognized from his mother, the one she’d take at the door when chatting to neighours over a B&H. He waved at an acquaintance. He scanned around the crowd of smokers. No one slotting into the middle of his mental venn diagram – no one both cute and pullable. A very particular category. Now Johnny had a heart condition and shouldn’t really be smoking. He was told he could live a long healthy life or it could just pack in one night. When he went for a piss in the alley nearby, not willing to stand in the queue for the toilets again (that 2/3 had somehow really rushed through him), it did pack in. he fell down onto the piss wet floor and died.