The Watering Hole by Lorna Wadge
Candy sat in the pub with a
double whisky, as recommended by ‘Kerrang’, and her boyfriend, Syd. She looked
deeply troubled; since waking earlier that afternoon she found she was
profoundly concerned for the future of Rock’n’Roll.
Syd was irritated. He stood up.
‘Where are you going?’ Candy
asked.
‘You’re so depressing,’ he
growled and left.
Candy was on the verge of
arguing that she had not said anything all evening, but she thought better of
it.
‘He’ll see the light,’ Candy
thought, obviously not on the same wavelength as Syd, who had a mind like a
cess-pit.
Syd was in fact the cleverest
boy Candy had gone out with, he was ‘brave’ enough to drive a car and was the
fastest ‘Rizzla roller-upper’ in the Black Dog. Candy had said of this latter
accomplishment ‘you’ve got to have something in this life.’
Supplying the music this
Thursday night was a pretentious wimp, who played the synthesizer and sang of
love lost, love found and love in similar predictable situations, all of which
left Candy seething and in a good mind to select ‘rip it up’ on the juke-box, but
now found she was too legless to move.
‘This Evan Williams is strong
stuff,’ she concluded, while setting fire to the wrong end of a Marlboro
cigarette and struggling with an awkward packet of cheese and onion flavoured
crisps.
The time was nine o’clock and
the bar was filling up fast. The sound of the synthesiser player became weedier
as people chatted about mundane matters such as ‘the washing machine's been
playing up again’ and ‘I must see the chiropodist.’
Candy reminisced about the old
days.
‘I remember the great
guitarists,’ she told herself, ‘Shame about Hendrix.’
She also remembered Janis Joplin
and Jim Morrison and a joke about necrophiliacs paying death duties.
‘Huh,’ Candy stood up and
smoothed down her bourbon stained ‘Pop Art’ dress. She blinked, tried to focus
her eyes on the wall and her mind on her usual worries and hang-ups and she
staggered over to the ‘Way Out’.
When she had reached the door,
she turned.
‘Save Rock’n’Roll,’ she screamed
and spent ten minutes trying to make a dramatic exit by slamming the saloon bar
door.