In a desperate attempt for popularity, The Trench has instigated 'Poker Night' on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was caught up in the preparations while recovering from a whole day reading crappy dissertations by students who should know better than to write whatever they wrote with re-runs of The Professionals (very funny) in the background. Julie turned up from her own crappy day with the equally daft and we watched the developing scene, a cross between Binion's Horseshoe Las Vegas and Old McDonald's Farm (but nothing like the above, which seems the perfect mix - rather the opposite) with the fresh arrival of fat people and very thin people with a clearly considerable social problems and interest in securing the big money and very intent on the seriousness of it all (well if you can win £70 in an evening for a £10 drop go ahead.)
I said, 'Will the bar staff be wearing sequins and cowboy hats?' which gained zero response in the terminally unenthusiastic Trench where Keith the landlord was determined for us to watch a large bit of 'Coast' on the big screen before Arsenal play Ipswich. God help us I thought, no hats, no cleavage, no high heals, no 'buttock decollage', just nerds on the run.
But back to those students, who should begin to understand that there is something called beginning to understand the world you are in (takes a little work, say reading 'Marx for Beginners' for starters- and thats done in cartoons) rather than just sucking it up like a fucking goldfish thinking you HAVE A FUCKING OPINION WORTH A DAMN while listening to R&B fuck music sung through a computer and sitting your arse on Facebook.