Almost hesitantly, I pushed open the door and stepped through into the Beer Shop.
Hello. Have you come to look at my beers?
A young lady said from behind the counter.
I squinted at her in the poor light. A lady? Not a man? Not a Bear-Man? Perhaps then, a Bear-Lady?
She was very small.
As my thoughts churned the Bear-Lady smiled sweetly at me and waved her arm at the beers on display.
I let out a slight whuff of surprise as if I were an old leather chair which someone had ingloriously thumped their bahookie down upon.
Finally, I could buy my glorious beers again. And such beers! There were all manner of delights displayed before me. Exotically flavoured stouts and fruity concoctions that would not be out of place in a Lady of the Night's party parlour.
I shook my head in wonder at it all.
Fuck you Corona Virus 19 or whatever the hell you were calling yourself.
I finally had my beer shop back.
Everything was going to be OK.
I could feel myself getting all Justin Timberlake of the hips and had to keep a stern hold of them so they didn't gyrate me into some kind of trouble.
I picked up a couple of interesting beers. These looked bloody fine to me.
Game on.
I took them to the till.
The Bear-Lady looked at the cans and then said brightly.
Good choice! That will be TEN POUNDS PLEASE.
I flinched a little at her slightly insane shouting and held out my coin for her to take.
She picked the coins from my hand and looked at them in disgust.
That's not real money?!
She flung the coins back at me and frowned fiercely as if there were a curly black hair in her soup.
It is real money.
I said flatly, picking the coins up and pushing them back at her whilst giving her the stern eye.
What!?
She said incredulously.
She picked up a coin and bit into it with a mad growling noise as if she were a dog with an itchy bum in a garden full of soft grass.
This is plastic money. I want real money. Ten pounds, NOW!
She reached out and grabbed my beers and bundled them close to her chest,
Right you, give me my flipping beers. They're mine. I'm not giving you a tenner for them.
I said firmly to the little Bear-Lady.
No Daddy. You aren't getting them unless you pay me my money. Now, GET OUT OF MY SHOP!
The Little Lady stamped her foot, looking most cross and pointed at the door of the living room.
It's just a game lass, remember?
I said reaching out for my beer.
Hmmph. This game is rubbish. I'm going to my room. You can play all by yourself.
The Little Lady stomped out of the room.
I looked after her, perplexed. Something was tickling at the back of my head. Then it struck.
HEY! BRING ME BACK THOSE BEERS!
