Books at the bar

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I was meeting my friend Hardeep for a Nando’s tonight.

I took along a copy of my latest Arsenal book, which he wanted to give to his brother-in-law, and a copy of my Adele book, which he wanted to give to his wife.

I stopped for a drink on the way there. A very drunken guy at the bar leaned over to ask what my books were. He looked at the Arsenal one, and I told him I wrote it.

“Bollocks you did!” he spat.

He then looked at the Adele one.

“I suppose now you’ll tell me you wrote this one, n’all!” he exclaimed.

I told him I did.

“Are you faking shitting me, ya c*nt?” he enquired.

I asked him what sort of things he liked reading.

“Books about c*nts what slice other c*nts,” he shouted. “You ever written any of them?”

I attempted my best placatory smile and retreated to Nando’s.