Andy and I sat around a small table close to the fire or fake fire in the large lounge of the George surrounded by people of all ages and backgrounds. We were quiet and enjoying the occasional memory of school or occasional exchange of work story or comment on the football. It was a warm inviting and relaxing environment fueled by the warmth of the fire and the background buzz of voices with the smell of cigarettes and the occasional cigar hanging in the air complete with the occasional blast of cold and wisp of mist when someone held the door open too long.
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So, there was I crawling on all fours around a damp dark smelly room, dressed in rubber boots and rubber gauntlets, looking for cock.
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It was a warm sunny day with clear skies except for the occasional tiny white cloud bouncing in the sea of blue. The warmth hit me and a first drip of perspiration rolled down my neck. It was a lovely day to go out and do something worthwhile on – May in England could sometimes but not often be like this. Oh there I go again. Right British. Already going on about the weather. Apologies for that. Let’s get back to the story. So where was I? Oh yes, a lovely day. What could I spend it doing? But I already knew. The local non-league football team had a game at home, and I would take the long 2 mile walk from my parent’s home, where I was visiting, to the ground and enjoy the game. The team were doing well and it should be an easy win.
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