A friend and I drove to a caravan in the car park of an industrial estate to get a breakfast. We pulled up just outside and walked into a haze of smoke. ‘Now lads, two breakies?’ said Granddad, the old man who is not related to either of us.
‘Aye, and a can of coke.’ Ricky, my friend replied.
‘Had your Glen in ‘ere earlier’ said Granddad, as he made two cups of tea.
‘Yea, been sacked again ‘an he.’
‘He mentioned it, ill bring ‘em over’
We both took our tea and sat down at one of the benches and picked up a copy of the sun that had been left behind by an earlier customer. We drank our stale tea and read the morning headlines while we waited and there it was the headline ‘It’s a Pig in the Middle’ The Sun’s snappy headline about a recent survey conducted by Channel 4’s Location, Location, Location naming Middlesbrough the worst place to live in Britain but I was soon distracted from this as a full English was placed in front of me. After we’d finished mopping up the egg with our final piece of toast I stood up to go outside for a cigarette. ‘Where ya going Greg?’ asked Granddad.
‘Out for a tab’ I replied
‘Just ‘av one in ‘ere, we all do’ he said while pulling out a pack of Lambert and Butler from his pocket
‘You should put the ashtrays back out’ said a voice from behind me.
‘Aye, a might do, look a bit funny though.’ So after a minute and a few other people lighting up I went and sat back in my seat and did the same and I must say it was the most liberated id felt in a long time.
‘You’ll never get the tabs out of Boro, born n’ bred that way aint we’
After