A boozy night …

 

 

 

 

 

It’s 12.30 am on a cold Saturday night, and I’m looking out of the window onto the Library forecourt, where a man is wandering about, aimlessly. After a moment he seems to collect his thoughts, and walks steadily towards the Library back door. When he gets there, he opens the lid on the industrial-size wheelie-bin, climbs in, and closes the lid. A minute or two later a young man puts his skateboard down on the library wall, wanders off for a pee against a nearby tree, and settles down by the skateboard to roll an enormous joint, which he lights, and wanders off.

 

I contemplate ringing the Police about the man in the bin, but what am I going to tell them? Is it illegal? Stupid, yes; illegal, surely not.

 

A man totters along the pavement towards Old Park Road, and misses all the parked cars.

 

Another few minutes and a lad of I suppose 18 wanders along the road, swaying off the pavement and regaining it a moment later. He crosses the road, and disappears behind my hedge. A young woman strides purposefully along the pavement, stepping briefly into the road to avoid the lad by my hedge, and carries on down the road. The lad reappears unsteadily, pulling at his trousers, and staggers off towards Old Park Road. A moment or two later he’s trotting back towards town: perhaps he’d nipped home to get some more money.

 

Two men in their twenties amble uncertainly along the pavement, and stop to have a cheery discussion, with much arm-waving and pointing, but head off towards Old Park Road.

 

It’s almost 1.30am, and the man is still in the bin: I go to bed.

 

Next morning the wheelie-bin lid is open; the man has gone. But in an hour that night I saw only one person who was indisputably sober. At what point is it agreed that there are too many pubs, and that the national consumption of alcohol is actually “excessive” ?

 

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