Full Moon
Marie is cooking something which makes Ally feel sick. This afternoon I had my first awkward customer. A bearded, red headed man called Eric, horribly pissed, disliked the way I walked about jangling the pub keys at closing time at 3pm. I was assigned to the vault at 7pm and the drooling Eric was asleep face down on the bar. No amount of trying by me to awaken him worked and when he finally regained consciousness he spat on the floor and staggered out of the door. The place was full of pissed, senile OAPs. No music, and only the clicking of the balls on the pool table. One ageing hippie was singing old 'Beach Boy' numbers. Roy didn't like the way I allowed a pool game to go on until 10:45, but fell silent when he saw it was his son, William, playing.
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