Botanical

So who is coming tonight?

I asked my good mate Venn, so-called because of his gigantic ears making him somewhat similar to a two circle Venn diagram.

Tonight man? Ooft. Everybody. All the guys. Absolutely everyone. I have managed to get a hold of everyone we haven't seen because of Covid and... you know parenthood, like yourself.

Venn didn't have kids. He had an Audi convertible instead, which looked like something The Batman would drive and cost as much as a small house.

Of course, having a convertible in Scotland with our weather being as it is is as much use as having a chocolate teapot but each to their own.

Venn had a very dim view of parents and parenting because he was one of the few left out of our old circle of friends that hadn't flung their muck into a beef kitten and made a baby.

Sometimes I envied him in that, at least until I would see him driving around with the top down on his car on a rainy Scottish day wearing sunglasses.

Everybody? Even Wee Alky Matt?

Wee Alky Matt was a bit of a mad drunk and had the most awful habit of pissing himself after six sambuca shots.

Aye, got him. He is coming. I even managed to get The Duke out.

He said this last bit with pride as well he might. No one had seen The Duke since COVID and lockdowns had started. We knew he was ok though because he regularly posted on Facebook saying delightful things to his friends such as

STICK THE JAB UP YOUR ARSE

YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF SHEEP AND I WILL GLADLY WATCH YOU BURN

He was a charismatic fellow to say the least. Despite his recent You are all stooges for the NWO anti-vax stance, The Duke was a hilarious chap to be around.

Hopefully, COVID hadn't ruined him.

And who's bright idea was it to meet on a Wednesday night then?

I tried to sound casual but truth be told, I was working tomorrow and School Night crazy drinking sessions were more the province of a ten years ago Boom.

Venn stiffened like a Magpie spying a wet coffee bean.
^{^{Which look like little birdy vaginas didn't you know?}}

Mate, you know how hard it is to organise a group of lads? Especially with you fucking parenting lot. Ooo I can't do Saturday, Tarquin has ballet or Shaniqua has piano lessons. All that shit. So. Wednesday night it is.

The phone felt frosty in my hand.

Aye, calm your fucking tits mate, I was only asking.

I said, politely wondering if that was a snidey jibe at my daughter doing ballet. I vowed to pish in one of his drinks later. That would learn him.

And don't even think of pishing in anybody's drinks tonight. Fuck knows how you manage it, like a fucking Ninja Houdini the way you do that.

He grunted, half laughing and half wincing. No doubt remembering the time he had drunk my pish thinking it was a Gin and Tonic.

It's amazing what you can get up to when you tell someone that they were drinking botanical gin.

Alright mate, I promise.

I laughed as if the last thing in the world to be on my mind would be to pish in his drink.

He laughed too as if such tomfoolery was the province of long ago.

So, I will get you at seven in The Drake then?

Aye mate. Seven on the dot is the aim.

Venn made a tootling noise as if playing a trumpet.