Having had a totally shit week at work - (this wasn't budgie crap on your jacket, it was elephants with diarrhoea - type poo), I decided to go to my local tavern - an Irish Bar - for a drink of whatever would cleanse my soul.
What started as a "I'll be home about 6.30 dear" descended into a "Oh fuck, it's 2 am already" with all the grace of a hippo on skis.
But, it was ok as we were doing that 'male-bonding' thing - where you get as pissed as small animals with no brains and talk complete bollocks for no apparent reason.
In the overall scheme of things, we were happy to have beer and discussed important things like world peace, a piece of the world, World Wrestling, giant pandas etc., and then it started to fall apart.
"Booooo" shouted my Indian brave, when the Irish band had finished another 'song' with no beginning, middle, or end.
"Shut up" I said, to him, not the angry natives gathering around us.
"But it was fucking shit" he announced, quite justifiably.
I assessed the situation and decided that the 'withdrawal method' seemed very appropriate.
Thus, we decamped to a different bar where there was no shit Irish music and the girls had breasts where nature intended them to be. We purchased our drinks and were happy to be merry and other none-Gothic stuff when....
We were joined by someone who couldn't decide which cunt-ry he was from but was determined to impress on us his idea of racial equality.
This was a mistake.
Firstly, I don't care if you are black, white, yellow, green or a slightly obvious shade of orange - if you talk bollocks, you are still a twat.
Secondly, getting into an argument with someone about their colour or ethnicity when you have completely no idea what you're babbling about is not a good plan.
So, I went very quiet - almost silent in fact. The temptation to rip his heart out was almost overpowering but I resisted. My Indian Brother tried valiantly, but unsuccessfully, to explain that this interloper had no fucking clue what he was talking about.
"See - you white people have no idea about repression" announced the 'dead 30 times in my head" person.
I felt the heat rise inside of me, calmed it, and said "It's oppression, moron" and walked away before I did something I would regret.
"Why didn't you react? - he was talking shit" inquired my friend, soon afterwards.
"Because, I can't afford the lawyers that his family can. The only oppression he knows is when his cheque doesn't arrive on time. But anyway, look at the tits on her!!" I said, diverting the conversation long enough for my friends pissed eyes to give up trying to focus.
*Situation suitably diffused, segregated and suitably strange for a Friday*