Friday Night Out With The Lads!

Friday night out with the lads, a tradition that is carried out in every village, town & city in hte UK. It's a night that we all can escape our mundane existance, OK mundane might be a tad strong.

it's the 1970's & Friday was a bloody good night nght out. Four lads were the nucleolus of the swillers, well l say four but one who shall unnamed had broken the unwritten rule & started to taking out his girlfriend. Girlfriends (if you had one ) were taken out on Saturday nights, the most holy of days was for lads ONLY. You were not even allowed to speak to a woman on hte most sacred of days. This not been allowed to talk to women rule was relaxed on the last two hours of the nightYou never know if you weren't to squffy you might hit the jackpot & get laid.

On the holy beer day the idea was to get that drunk that ou could not walk or talk & you pooed yourself, Ok l made the last bit up. The idea was to go out, have a laugh, a joke & get well and truly sh*tfaced. The idea of having a fight & causing trouble never acared to us, but to be honest it did happen & thankfully not very oftern.

Saturday dinner time where another beer drinking day, This was before all day opening, but there was a way around this problem. X serivcemans clubs were open all day Saturday & we used to get in there by simply walking past the doorman with a betting slip. The other was to get a train to Beverley, sometime we used to drive. If you did that now you would be hung drawn and quartered by the money hungry policeforce. The local police had the motto of " help, protect, reassure, help, protect , reassure my arse, increase government revenue was more apt. In Beverly Saturday was market day. long live market days.

Why did we go on a Saturday lunch as well as the night before ? Well the answer is quite simple really, we met to find out what the hell we had been up to the night before ! . It was a bit like the soap apera ( not that l watch the soaps, there sh*t) In my opinian the soaps are for brain dead . On a night time sassionmorons who havnt got a life of their own. they talk about the charactors as if they are real. Well l got news for you they are actors: get a grip you sad bastards.

Saturday lunch p*ss ups or DTS( dinner time sessions) could be as good and sometimes better than the Friday nights. On a night time session we could drink up to 14 pints each & the same on a DTS. The nanny state we live in now call us raving alcoholic's according to we should alll de dead now by now. Well you have got it wrong yet again we are all in our fiftys and doing well thank you.I dont tell what ever party is power how to run the county, so why the **** do they keep tring me hoe to live my life. Im not a great lover of politicains, they are all sh*t from the same Whatever party they represent. Politicions are abot as much use as mud flaps on a toroise as far as lm concered (thats my opinian)

Well we all came from council estates & there is nothing wrong with that, our parents were the alt of the earth, hard working most of our fathers had been in the second world war and most of them had seen some form of action. They never said a lot about it but it was there way.. Most people who live on eatates have their feet fimly planted on the ground.

Well back to our belief's if one of the lads was pot less we took him out and never dreamt of askig for the money back. In the next week or three it might be you who didnt have a pot ti p*ss in and as everyone knows it's illegal not to drink on a Friday. The last thing anybody wants it the beer police knocking on your door on a Saturday morning, the shame & humiliatin that you bring on your family. Anyway none of us want a criminal record do we ?

The city we live/lived in was Hull to give it its correct name Kingston Upon Hull the lost city some people put it. Some people been arseholes who probaly never been here, if you like back at our history, we told a king to bugger off ,so some smart arsed academic has got not a hope in hell of intimidating us !!!

What did you do when you left comprehencive school in the 1970's, well you got your fat arse and got a job. There were one or two who stayed on in the sxth form, you know who they were. They were the ones with satchels & all their books were coverd in fancy wallpaper. There wasnt one person who went to uni, It wasnt because we were daft lads, it was not the done thing.At the time there was more work than you could shake a hairy stick at.

When l was 13 l use to go and work with my uncle on building sites, he was a carpenter & joiner ( yes there is a differance) it was something that enjoyed doing, its a good thing as he was a tight **** never gave me a penny, the greedy bugger. It still amazes me that school never tought me a blooody thing about having to work for a living. Yes l could read & writte dut me spelling was atrocious. I just started off by waching him and asking questions, think l pissed him of at times as some of the questions had jack **** to do with work. Its a bloody big leaning curve as l had to learn the the simplest of of thingd. Like knowing the differance between 4"x 2" & 3"x2" the differance between PSE & rough sawn. I ever had to learn how to use a saw correctly. All sounds very simple bet l bet there isnt many 13 year olds who can name & use all the tools a tradesman carry's.

The health & safety tossers would not allow a proud father or uncle to take young lad or lass onto a building site & give them an insite into a trade. If htey did the industry might not be in such deep sh*t as it is now.Yes l know that the industry has had to get a lot safer but not by brain dead tossers that dont have the slighest iota of common sence and think that what it says in a bloody book works in the real would. Health & safety people sh*t on them.

By the time l left school at 16 & after 3 years of working on sites on Saturdays & school holidays . The natural progression was to start my working career as an apprentice joiner & carpenter. The question that l was asked was where do l want to serve my time ?. I choose to be indentured to the same company my uncle worked for. There l was tied down to 3 long years . My uncle told me he would treat me worse than any other lad he had trained; yes he was bloody right there.

But thinking of the other options my intoduction to the rest of my working life wasn't that bad. What was open to us was the fishing industry & most of us could see that ,that was on a down hill slope. I take my hat off to all the men who made or still make their livings out at sea. They risk their lifes so that you can have a lump of our ever decreasing fish stocks on your plate, you selfish twats.

The other options were to work in a factory or join the army, join the army sod that you got shot at in Ireland. Working in a factory ,no bloody way. You must have a certain mind set to spend your life n a factory. How can anyone work in a factory ? To me that means going to the same place day in day out & doing the same sh*tty thing day in day out, week in, week out. They do it to keep the wolf at bay & food on the table for their wife's & kids again l take my hat off to them. I could never do that, well once l did. I remember comming home from school & telling my dad that the school was planning a trip to France for our year. I ask him if l could go. I forget how much it cost but it was bloody expencive, he said that he would look into it. Well he did & the outcome was that he could take the family abroad for not much more than the schol was chargingto take me to France. Why the bloody hell I wanted to got to France is beyond me. Just goes to show what a stupid young lad I was. Yes I remember now one of the main reasons that i wanted to go was because the teacher that was arranging it had a loverly pair of ****. Thats the only reason that I wanted to go, I carn't think of any other reason why anyone one would want to go to France ?.

Well he said that he would take us to Austria for a fortnight, but I had to go out & earn my spending money. So i got a job in the summer holidays working in a bakery. It was sh*t I hated every mind numbing minute of it. I stuck it out for the full six weeks & made myself a promise that I would never ever work in such a place again. That type of work robs you of your soul. If that was the only work available I would gladly take a gun to my head & blow my brains out.

We had the holiday & it was brilliant but sadly it was the last holiday we ever had together. My mum had, had a very serious stomach operation the year before because she had stomach cancer & most of her insides had been removed. She had contracted polio when she was 5 & had to wear leg callipers, she never let it get the better of her, but thats another story.

Sadly when i was 14 the cancer got the better of her & she died. My fatherdied six weeks later, well I hope he did we cremated the bugger. Thats when things started to go wrong for me. Some say that at fourteen It's fer too young to realise the full extent of suffering that hte death of both parents causes, bollacks is all I can say to that. I knew exactly what had happend. . If that had happened 5 years earlier I would have left school & been working for a living. The problem I had was the way the "family" treat me after that.

My sister by name only was ten years older than me, so she was 24 & it was decided that l live with her after my parents deaths. What a mistake that was, from the outside it looked like she was some kind od angel. After suffering the demise of both parents she had to look after her 14 year old brother. She treated my like sh*t, with the family on her side l was up sh*t creek in a barbed wire canoe.

The family gave me a choise , well to be honest l didnt have a say in the matter. I was givern the choise as the communists were given the choise in the old soviet bloc. I had freedom of speech but only if l agreed with what the family was saying. One of my uncles seemed to have an inkling of what was going on. He suggested that he could adopt me& split us up. Thats the last thing l wanted, welll apparently that is what l told him ! If only l had the balls to stand up for myself, any confidence l had, had been knocked out of me.

For a time my so called relations treated me like sh*t & there was bugger all l could do about it. I was trappped by my apprenticeship, I had signed my indentures & that was me Fu**ed until l was 19. Dont get me wrong serving my time was one of the best things l ever did.

Why did l agree to stay with a family that only treat me like sh*t ? good question, & to be honest I havnt got a f**king clue. My head was well & truly stuffed up my arse. Why do people support a communist receme? The reasons are probadly very simular; they dont feel they have a choise. I was like a fu**ing puppet they pulled the stings & l danced. That reallly makes me sound like a pathetic turd, & at times l must have been.

Even the most subservient of people have a personality hidden inside them. Some just delow the surface, others well & truly dured, some people just agree to keep the piece, its easier that way. Do you agree or do you say no until you are put in a position where disagreeing isnt an option?. Agree now or later whats the fu**ing differance the answer they want is still the same, they are right & you are wrong. Even if your right your wrong thats how the system works.

When l went to the pub regulary l must have been knocking on to the ripe old age of 16 or 17 by then. Well to be honest l got taken to court when l was 14. My crimes against the state where been drunk & incapsble 12 charges against me. They threatened to put me in care, why the fu** didnt l say thats what l wanted, yes you guessed right l didnt want to break up such a caring family. Well that was the right thing to say , wasnt it ?

hang on a minute l was going to pub having a beer & my opinion was been listerned to, what a strange world this was. I could say what l thought & no one would **** me or tell me that l was just a lump of sh*t. Bloody hell i was with humans, people who didnt judge me, this must be Utopia. I had found people who listered; fu** me people who talked as if l was on the same level as them. It didnt take me long to realize that l was, I was on the same level, yes we were no differant we were equals.

This was a great time of my life, at times the best. i could escape my sh*t life. The part of my life that l had no opinions, the part of my life that l was only a fu**ing puppet. The part of my life were to be honest l didnt really exist all l was was an empty shell. All you had to do was tell me ehat to say & l would say yes or no in the right places. All that was neede was that you point me in the right direction.

It wasnt that long defore  l was leading something of a double life, the empty shell that the family had beaten me into, or the beginnings of the man that was starting to surface after years of been told he didnt exist.

I will give you an example off the mindless tosser my relations where trying to turn me into; one of my uncles asked me, what is 7x7, my answer 49, NO thats wrong! hw shouted, OH sh*t what do l do. Thinking as quickly as l could l carnt come up with any other answer than 49 l did the maths 6 of 7 times 49 was the only answer that that l could come up with ! What do l do, stand up for myself & say that lm right or keep my mouth shut. I sank into that mental sh*y pit the place that l knew so well, I had lived there since my parents died, my mind was working at 100 miles per hour again, If l said no your wrong the answer is 49, i would get a slap for been a cheeky ****, so l said bugger all, silance OH no inside my head all l was telling myself 49, 49, 49 there was no other answer.

5 minutes past an that uneasy silance was stilll there, not a fu**ing word had been spoken I was sat at the table facing the wall, my uncle stoood behind me & that in itself was intimidating, having a big hairy arsed builder towering above you. The answer is 49 he shouted l turned around to face him, my mind was in fu**ing bits. I thought to myself thats what l told you & you siad l was wrong you fu**ing pr**k. Thats what l thought to my self. It didnt really matter l got a vebal fu**ing & a slap for not standing up for myself, when l did stand up for myself I got a kicking for been a cheeky young git, thats a perfect example of where your right your wrong, I just could not win either way.

Did that episode theach me anything, the answer to that is yes, it fu**ing well did ! The lesson that l learnt was that l was on my own. My relations treat me like sh*t. But how could they, when my parents were alive none of my relations treat me like that , l didnt understand why the sudden change ? We all had been dealt a sh*t hand, My aunties & uncles had lost a brother in law & a sister  l had lost both parents.

Did that give them an excuse to take it out on me ? Or did they despise me & were only nice to me ehen my father was alive ? That is the only reason that l could think of for them treating me me l something you accidently stood on while walking though the park.

Back to the pub a place where l was on the same level as everyone else a place where 7x7 was 49 & you could say that or say bugger all or even call someone a thick **** for asking such a question, & quess what no one hit you or called you a stupid git. This must be how proper grown ups treat each other.

The pub is where l began to realise that l could be myself & l didnt have to be frightened of my own shadow. It was like slowly filling an empty tank. The more fuel you put in the the faster & better the engine will run. My tank had been completly drained after the death of my parents. My enigine had been coughing & spluttering & now l had found a garage that had the abillaty to fix it.

My fuel was the company & the abilaty to be able to vioce my opinion; it was an poinion that was listerned to no matter if it was right or wrong. Dont get me wrong it was a few beers that gave me the initial courage to talk out, & guess what no fu**er hit me, hang on a minute let me try this again, l spoke up & to my amazment no one tryed to put me in my place, hit me or call me ot called me a ****. 

What the **** had l done l had commited myself to three years of pain, heart ache & tormment. I had signed my indentures & there was no way out of it, l would complete my apprentiship l had givern my word, my father would have been proud of me & that gave me strength, I wish he was still alive he would never let anyone treat me like sh*t.

This is why l found religion, l prayed to the god of Friday nights, a god that l still have a lot of repsct for even though l dont wordhip in his temples ( the pub) as much as l should he gave me confidence & l thank him for that.

Serving my time with my uncle was a living hell, dont get me wrong he was a bloody sh*t hot joiner a perfectionist. I had a lot of repect for him at work . Its a pity that the ore that l held him was completely dissipated by his brainlee attitude to me as a family member the pri*k.

I had served my time as an apprentice jouner thank ****, l was free at last. That meant that l could do what the flying **** l wanted to do. 3 years, yes 3 fu*knig, sh*tty years , it had been 6 years since both my parents died, To my relations l was a lump of sh*t.

My time to escape The Royal Navy was my escape & l loved every minuate of it, but thats another story.

BILL1751 BILL1751
51-55, M
1 Response Mar 31, 2012

HOLY CRAP...just full of culture and ....seasoned....geez i thought you lived in Chicago not the UK...just AWWWWWW rich character....ruff and truly human<br />
STEINBECK STUFF....KEEP DOIN are way to "full of it" to stop.........

Wow, what can l say lm blushing here. A friend of mine suggested that l start writting.
All l can say is thank you &amp; lm glad you like my writting style. Again thank you : )

I TOTALLY agree!!! Great stuff!