he was looking past me. Glass eyed. Glass in hand in danger of spilling. He had more to add. I waited.
“ Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark...” another level crossing type stare.
“...how did you, did you, do you, do you, did you, stop drinking?”
I attempted to begin a reply. -” Well-”
“I MEAN you’re a good guy, good guy, the best. I mean there’s Bazzer fuckin eejit and Johno..”
He hiccoughed deeply for effect, “... Well he’s just you know, Johno, you know.” To add weight to this last pearl of wisdom he hiccoughed again and puked a little bit into his pint glass. That was enough.