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( THINGS I NOW HAVE )
It was a post-comedy night disco and I was much too busy locked in a furious dance-off to Paradise City to really notice what was happening at first. Luckily, another of our party had noticed the middle-aged weasely looking bloke rifling through the coats around the table where we'd been sitting and politely asked him what the fuck he was doing. He made some slurred excuses about looking for his coat and then stood around until a couple of bouncers were summoned and he was manhandled into the street.
At the point of going home, we noticed two curious things: Firstly, that the chap who'd been confronted and thrown out apparently had left a jacket and was attempting to regain entry to the venue through a combination of verbal reasoning and occasional attempts to barge the door. Secondly, that Dr. B was taking a long time to retrieve her coat. When she finally emerged, it turned out she'd found it in an entirely different place to where she left it and also her phone was missing. All eyes turned to the bloke who was still negotiating with the bouncers.
Surrounded by eight of us and quizzed, he furiously denied ever picking up a phone. He continued to deny this while someone had the bright idea of ringing Dr. B and a strangely familiar tune began to play from his back pocket. The bouncers duly retrieved the mobile and attempts were made to interrogate the tea leaf ("What's your name?" "Dave Ferry." There was a road sign for the ferry port across the road) while we considered doing our civic duty by calling the bobbies & peelers. Eventually, tiredness and the fact the goods had been recovered won out and we wombled home, leaving the still-denying-everything Mr. Ferry to renew his attempts to get his stuff back from the staff who, oddly enough, were now a lot less sympathetic about his issue.
It was a post-comedy night disco and I was much too busy locked in a furious dance-off to Paradise City to really notice what was happening at first. Luckily, another of our party had noticed the middle-aged weasely looking bloke rifling through the coats around the table where we'd been sitting and politely asked him what the fuck he was doing. He made some slurred excuses about looking for his coat and then stood around until a couple of bouncers were summoned and he was manhandled into the street.
At the point of going home, we noticed two curious things: Firstly, that the chap who'd been confronted and thrown out apparently had left a jacket and was attempting to regain entry to the venue through a combination of verbal reasoning and occasional attempts to barge the door. Secondly, that Dr. B was taking a long time to retrieve her coat. When she finally emerged, it turned out she'd found it in an entirely different place to where she left it and also her phone was missing. All eyes turned to the bloke who was still negotiating with the bouncers.
Surrounded by eight of us and quizzed, he furiously denied ever picking up a phone. He continued to deny this while someone had the bright idea of ringing Dr. B and a strangely familiar tune began to play from his back pocket. The bouncers duly retrieved the mobile and attempts were made to interrogate the tea leaf ("What's your name?" "Dave Ferry." There was a road sign for the ferry port across the road) while we considered doing our civic duty by calling the bobbies & peelers. Eventually, tiredness and the fact the goods had been recovered won out and we wombled home, leaving the still-denying-everything Mr. Ferry to renew his attempts to get his stuff back from the staff who, oddly enough, were now a lot less sympathetic about his issue.
