Pints – Observations and Misunderstandings

It hasn’t been too much of a strain not knowing what’s going on in the world. In truth I’ve quite enjoyed it. Being oblivious of all the bullshit is quite a liberating experience. I’m not sure how I’ll feel after ten days but I suspect this will be enough of a thing to make me limit my access to news channels in the future. It hasn’t been entirely easy admittedly as there have been moments when I’ve accidentally caught sight of a headline on a website or newspaper stand, or when I’ve gone on Facebook to check my email I’ve seen a little of the first post at the top of my feed. I have found out for example that something has happened with Giselle Maxwell or whatever her name is, you see I can’t go and check, and that Prince Andrew may be in trouble again for sexually manipulating under age girls. I wonder if he’ll give another car crash interview and incriminate himself further, I also wonder whether she has gone and committed suicide yet. Even having conversations with people, I’m trying not to listen to what they say too much as if knowing the news will harm me in some way. It’s strange not being able to respond with knowledge too, I enjoy discussing events.

I discovered that the pubs opened last night. I didn’t find this out from any news source but from having actual conversations with people. I knew pubs were opening soon and part of me actually thought they already were but with my desire for a pint not what it once was I hadn’t bothered to find out anything else on the issue. Living on the main street in this little village means I get to do my best Mediterranean grandmother impression and watch out my window keeping an eye on proceedings. Generally I’m a people watcher so there is a certain pleasure in it but last night I forgot how much watching drunks walking up and down the street was once a thing, and also how quickly we forget what was once normal. In truth it’s actually quite nice to see people in the pubs and being a little drunk, as long as they’re not screaming outside my window all night I’m fine, although that’s what ear plugs are for, and I quite enjoy the streets coming to life again. I loved lockdown in a way, there was such peace and quiet, everything was so paradoxically calm while the world fell apart. But it is nice for life and jovial frivolity to return. I may have just missed it. Maybe I should go and have a pint after all, see what all the fuss is about.

Something remarkable happened to me today. Firstly I promise I’ll never become an exercise wanker, apparently they’re called Strava Wankers in honour of an app that allows you to record your run and post it online for all your friends to see how great you are. I admit I do have the app but it allows me to take the piss out of my friend when I run faster than him which probably makes me a hypocrite in some way. Anyway the point before I went off on one, twice, was that something remarkable happened today. While running I stopped hating everything about existence in that moment, usually the twenty five minutes worth of moments I run for, and found myself looking up and around myself at the sun and the fields, and realised I was actually enjoying myself. I felt that happy feeling I’ve heard people get from exercise. Apparently it’s not all about pain, suffering and just wishing you could either walk or magically be at the end of the run or life. It’s possible but I might actually get something from this exercise thing other than competitive pride sores on my feet and ego.

What my ego doesn’t like though is the realisation that I am not unique. I’m thirty-four and I’ve taken up exercise. It makes me want to vomit. I was cool once. Soon I’ll be wearing lycra and high vis jackets, and leaning against the bar in country pubs on a Sunday talking too loudly about the incredible milage I’ve just done on my super duppa bike. Well I probably won’t but I never thought I would take up exercise either. I must say though that I really can’t wait for the pubs to be open, to just drink a nice pint in a beer garden or in a nice cosy corner by a fireplace. Chat a little shit with people and stumble out into the night air. The worst thing is I can’t see this happening until the end of the summer just in time for rain and cold dark nights. Fireplace it is then. Maybe someone can create Strava for drinkers although I can’t possibly think how quickly we would get distracted from it and move on to being interesting again. Interesting in that drunken and barely interesting kind of way but you’re drunk so you don’t give a shit. I’m hardly in quarantine, I still work and while some things have changed not a great deal has; but my god I hope this bloody thing ends soon. I’ve just about had enough of it now. I want a pint.

Tag: Pints

A Strava Wanker & A Pint