Thirsty Thursday

by John Passmore

Don’t you hate televisions in pubs? It was a great disappointment when they installed one in our local but – thank heavens – they never seem to turn it on.

At least not on the first Thursday of the Month – or “Thirsty Thursday” as Philip and I call it.

Philip is an old friend and we meet once a month. We discuss each other’s lives. I never mention my Utility Warehouse business unless he asks. That would be in bad taste because he was once a distributor in my team but he gave up after a year.

The trouble is he can never resist asking – and if he asks, I tell him. And since friends don’t have secrets, if he asks how much residual income I’m getting I tell him that too.

“Well done you,” he says. But he never mentions giving it another go – and I never suggest it.

And then we turn to other things – like why the barman has switched on the TV.

He was very apologetic but he was an actor and he was appearing in an advert – and sure enough there he was cavorting with a particularly glamorous actress and advertising something that I’m afraid was lost on me in all the excitement.

After that it was Philip’s round and he asked what other acting the barman had done – and the conversation got round to what other part-time work he did.

And I just couldn’t resist it any longer. I didn’t need to talk to him to get my six. I had been to a breakfast meeting and then – because I thought the breakfast meeting might sound like cheating – I’d spoken two other people separately and rounded it off with four Win-a-Mini forms when I went to get a packet of sugar.

But as I say, he brought up the subject of money. So I said: “D’you want to know how you can make some more money?”

“I certainly do,” he said, with quite startling enthusiasm.

Matching his enthusiasm with matter-of-fact tones, I handed over my notebook: “Write your name and mobile number and your email address in there and I’ll send you something.”

Which he did – and which I did when I got home.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Philip watching all this. I don’t know what he was thinking.

As I say, I never ask.