KUNTZ

So, dawg, the word on the streets is that some guy got run over (well, hit by a car) whilst standing outside the Ivy House drinking in the street celebrating the football or whatever.
There was bloodshed in the Park Tavern and all hell broke loose round town with people throwing bottles and glasses.

Here, in my beautiful pub there was less action. I was in a foul mood and was my usual condescending piss taking self, being a miserable bitch to everyone.

FACT:
Macclesfield does not deserve Stella.

Some young lad stumbles in and gets all "10 men" with people walking past him. (Tis a bit of a squeeze at times in the POW). I point out the correct way to act when in a pub (as he ovbiously doesnt go out in them often). He calls me "darlin' ", "love" and "sweets" - which makes me cringe, I hate it when 18/19 years olds talk like old men. So I keep an eye on him and his mates.

FACT:
I dont like people in pubs blowing whistles.

I tell the man (hes over 40) to lay off the whistle. I then find him later arguing with the young lads from above. After I sort that load of hot air out,the man gives me the old "can I ask you, why do you show football if you dont want people to blow whistles, sing and have a good time" line.
I hate this line. I didnt realise that watching football meant that you didnt give a shit about the other people around you and have to act like a knob.(incidentally, the match finished over 3 hours ago) So I cry like a baby for him and say "Boo Hoo, Cath3rine wont let me blow my whistle, its not fair." His mates all laugh. I win.

Needless to say, Im not excited about next Saturday.