Just don't get drunk... [open]

[⊕ Owen Pearson]

Owen walked into the pub, thinking about the new situation that he has dropped himself into. A bell rung in the almost empty space as he walked in through the door, to let the staff know that a possible customer came in.

He walked up to the bartender and asked for a drink. He had no preference as to what he got, he would drink it anyways. The bartender got a glass out, pulled the handle, and a frothy beverage gracefully poured into his cup. Owen was handed the drink on a few napkins.

He picked the drink up and brought it over to a seat at a table near the window. He set it down on the wooden surface and plunged into the comfortable seat. He gazed out the window as he took a sip of his drink.

[cymraeg123]

Rhodri stepped into the warm pub. The weather outside was terrible. Spots of rain fell heavily and Rhodri had ran all the way to the pub after looking after his godson--James Edwards--all day. He had decided that half way through the day that He really could do with a drink. James had been pestering him all day and after spending the last three days doing the same thing, he could not face another day without having at least two drinks. Tom Edwards was preparing to leave and this meant Rhodri would be stuck with James for a long time.

He walked up to the bar as another Corporal, a new recruit it seemed, walked away carrying a pint with a pile of napkins underneath it. Rhodri's eyes followed the Soldier and his thought strayed until the barmaid tapped his shoulder. This had brought him back to the pub from whatever planet he had thougth he was on. The Corporal had gone to sit by the window.

'A pint of Brains please,' Rhodri told the barmaid who then hurried off to the Beer dispenser filled with Brains.

He turned around and leaned on the bar. His two arms resting behind him. He looked around absorbing the sights and sounds that surrounded him. He tried concentrating on the one conversation but this was nearly impossible with the level of sound. He noticed that there were two men, barely sober, taht were starting an argument. Rhodri guessed that after one more pint a fight would kick off. He was about to think about what he could do to stop it if it happened but his thoughts, were again retrieved and placxed back on Earth by the Barmaid.

She had placed a pint glass full of dark liquid with a light bit of froth at the top on the bar, again with napkins underneath it.

'Here you go sir,'she said bending over slightly, which showed Rhodri more than he wanted to see, as she mopped up some beer that she had spilled.

Rhodri picked up the beer and made his way over towards the Young Corporal. He pushed past crowds of people who moved away quite easily. There were few spillages in the room to Rhodri's surprise and he had made it to the table faster and with more drink than he had anticipated.

'Helllo there. I'm Rhodri Williams. What's your name?'

[⊕ Owen Pearson]

He watched as the rain came down outside pouring out from the clouds onto the now muddy road outside. The weatherperson was going to be keeping their job for a while longer. Owen was upset that it would rain on his first day in his new home.

After he took a few sips of his drink, he was interrupted by someone next to him saying, "Hello there. I'm Rhodri Williams. What's your name?" It surprised him and pulled him away from his own window universe.

Owen had to reevaluate the question in his head before he answered with, "Oh, my name is Owen Pearson, I was transferred here from my old base."

"Wow, that weather is just changing on a dime," Owen stated, hoping to start a conversation with this new person that he met.

[hawkins]

The thick, sticky mud squished under Corporal Hawkins boot as he walked through the heavy rain toward the local pub. He was wide awake after the storm had come. After asking for a short leave, he left the base and headed directly for the pub. It was the perfect place to find someone to talk with. Hopefully, Conrad wouldn't embarrass himself after a drink.

Pushing the door open, he entered the warm and humid pub. The room held a golden aura from the incandescent lights that hung from the ceiling. Conrad stepped slowly toward the bar to gather himself a drink. Slapping down a few pence on the counter he spoke directly to the tender, "give me a lager." The bartender pushed the cold drink over to the English corporal who took the refreshment up in a snap.

Holding the pint mug in his left hand, he looked around the pub, looking for a place to seat himself. A small table near the windows caught Conrad's attention. Two corporals were talking with one another. One was of the British Army and the other was American. Interesting that the two would be talking to one another. Ever since the Americans had come to Britain, British soldiers had had no sex and less money. Being in the mood for cross-cultural interaction, Corporal Hawkins walked over to the table.

"Hello there, you mind if I take a seat with you?" he asked of the two men at the table. Taking a swig of his lager before looking down again and introducing yourself. "I'm Conrad, Conrad Hawkins of His Majesty's Army."

[⊕ Owen Pearson]

Owen was looking out the window when he saw an intelligent looking corporal who was walking across the mud towards the front door of the pub. He looked on as the man walked up to the bar to get his drink.

The man had gotten his drink and brought it over to the table were Owen and Rhodri were beginning a conversation. This is a great meeting place thought Owen because of the two soldiers that had already come up to greet him.

"Hello there, you mind if I take a seat with you?" said the new arrival to the table. The man took a sip of the drink that he had just gotten and continued with, "I'm Conrad, Conrad Hawkins of His Majesty's Army."

Owen replied to this person, "Sure take a seat, were just beginning to meet each other, Conrad. It's nice of you to come over here to talk to us." He realized how formal his comment sounded; he felt stupid for that. Owen thought that it was great that he was meeting so many of the other corporals on his off- time.

Thunder was heard in the distance, surprising a few of the drunken patrons in the bar. Owen laughed at the man in the back corner who spilt a drink all over himself.

[hawkins]

Mugs crashed as the wind thundered outside causing a certain raucous in the pub as Conrad sat across from the American corporal art the table near the windows. He was tired, but he was also ready for some sort of human contact, even with an American. The young man laughed at the apparent ineptness of a sergeant that sat in the corner of the pub, now with beer going down his front. Conrad smiled all the same.

He took a long drink of his lager and set the mug down on the table and looked directly at the corporal in front of him. "Where are you from? What state?" Conrad was a gentleman and he knew about the socio-political boundaries of the United States. The whole states thing that confused many a Briton was not at all surreptitious in the least to Corporal Hawkins. In an attempt to prompt conversation, he told where he was from, "I'm from southern Sussex along the coast. I grew up there."

There was little more he could tell about himself in the immediate future. He again took a long drink from his lager that stood in front of him on the round wooden table that was so typical of the time. Dragging his hand along the wood as he pulled his hand away from the mug, he realised just how old the table was; it probably was a leftover from the Dark Ages. The lager was finally getting to him as his thought slowed down and allowed him time to think in a reasonable speed.

He looked slightly over his shoulder to see the old sergeant had gotten up from his seat, returned, and begun drinking another beer. I was quite mad really, but Conrad dare not speak up for fear of a reprimand. Soon enough, he would have his sergeant's chevrons/ then, he would have some respect among the junior officers who had simply ordered him around not noticing his expertise in many subjects.

Many a day, he thought of how he regretted not being an officer when it was so easy for him to become one. The thought soon left as his squad at camp gathered and the men shared a good natured laugh at some officer or MP, or even Eisenhower. Soon, Conrad's mind came back to where he was, at a table with other people to talk with, an abnormality if ever there was one.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Moderation Post:

Closed by request.

The following CP has been issued:

Williams - 2CP, one good post

Pearson - 3CP, three posts, only one of them meeting the minimum standard

-JT