Book Club

Or, 'You could write a whole book on him!'

Whenever the subject of this little missive comes up between me and some of the regulars, one of the frequent suggestions is that there are one or two characters in the pub who could be the subject of an entire book, all on their own. These people are, almost universally, loved, but they don’t half get into some scrapes.

Some of the stories I could tell you about them are ones they readily and freely own up to, which they may or may not come out of positively; others I’ve witnessed first-hand, where they normally end up as the butt of the joke; and still others have come to me via a third party. It is these last group where I must be most careful, since I do not know the full story, nor do I want to in any way upset or offend any of our customers.

So in the occasional instance I do relate one of these types of stories to you, I trust that the subjects, should they be able to identify themselves, do not take it to heart, and are never upset with me or how they have been portrayed. I also hope that, as readership of this small blog grows, and those who read about Batman, or Brunel, or Misnomer and have never met them, nor know which pub The Last Drop Inn is based on, begin to outnumber those who do, my subjects will take heart and a sense of pride and community in knowing they have provided, however indirectly, some humour and colour for a wider audience, and have helped brighten more than a few strangers’ days.

All of which is a long way of saying that, in this update, I will be sharing a few stories about the people who I am frequently told I could base a whole book on. I did debate basing an update on each of these people individually, but I was conscious that that may appear to be picking on them a little too much. So suffice it to say, you probably haven’t heard the last of these people. But for now, let me tell you a little bit more about Batman.

Batman Returns

I’ve told you previously that Batman can be a typical tight Yorkshireman, and loves a bargain. But that isn’t to say that he also doesn’t, from time to time, appreciate the finer things in life.

Now if I asked what your favourite food and drink pairing might be, you’d probably give me a well-known and oft-repeated combination. Maybe a fruity red with a hearty beef stew. Perhaps something non-alcoholic, like fish and chips with a can of dandelion and burdock (or, if you’re like me, Ben Shaw’s Shandy). Or maybe something desert-based, like a nice glass of tawny port with some strong cheese and crackers.

Reader, I am about to introduce you to a game changer. A never-before-seen food and drink pairing which will utterly alter your outlook on life. One which Batman swears by. The source of eternal youth and good humour. This pairing is so outlandish, even if I give you half of it, I’d bet decent odds you couldn’t work out the matching accompaniment.

Batman loves a nice drop of brandy.

And to go with it, he adores fruit pastilles…

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Tarzan

Sometimes, it’s easy to spot a person’s trade by their mannerisms, attire, or marks on their skin. For instance, you wouldn’t mistake a fella wearing dungarees covered in paint flecks for a carpenter; he’s obviously a decorator. See someone caked in mud, with muck under their nails and grass stains on their jeans, and you’d be right to assume they’d either just got lucky with a local lady in the woods, or plied their trade as a green-space designer and architectural engineer (gardener, obviously).

But if you were to see Tarzan straight after work, you’d be hard-pushed to identify that he reckons to be an arborist. Perhaps this is mostly because he only does this occasionally, since he struggled to make it pay full time. But that’s only part of the story, because if you ask him what he does for a living, even he would struggle to tell you since he’s had more jobs than the social security office…

It’s difficult to understand why he struggled to make tree surgery pay, since he has always demonstrated a solid work ethic. He always makes a point of being punctual and getting on with the job, rarely has time off work, and always seems exhausted at the end of the working day, at least until a couple of rejuvenating pints have entered his system. And it isn’t like there aren’t an abundance of trees kicking around, either.

But I may have stumbled across the answer. Or, at least, part of it.

I was talking recently to another regular, who I’m sure you’ll meet in a future update, but as a brief introduction, this chap has a local building firm and oversaw the construction of a sizeable extension on my parent’s house a couple of years ago.

This fella once had a tree he needed dealing with, and, keen to keep the local goodwill economy rolling, fetched in Tarzan to do the job. Now, speaking as someone who isn’t an arborist, I suspect a ten-feet tall tree isn’t particularly massive. Certainly, the tree surgeons in America who regularly scale Giant Redwoods would scoff at the baby tree. But for Tarzan, it looked initially like a step too far.

His equipment wouldn’t reach high enough to deal with the tree.

Ever resourceful, our local builder offered to erect some scaffolding so Tarzan could complete his task safely. Tarzan agreed. And began climbing the erection.

Got halfway up.

Panicked.

And climbed down again.

So the builder had to climb the scaffold himself, with Tarzan’s equipment, and sort the pesky tree out himself.

The best bit? The builder reckons he still paid Tarzan for his efforts…

Perhaps this story is a little unfair of me, so it’s only right that I point out that Tarzan has had terrible luck with heights. He admitted just as much to me the other day.

On one particularly fateful afternoon, he’d got lucky with a lady and she’d taken him back to her place. 14 floors up on a tower block. Naturally, as they began to get busy, they lamented to close the curtains. You’d probably argue that it was safe enough, since they were so high above the ground. But that didn’t stop Tarzan being caught in flagrante.

Part way through the deed, his companion froze and said she thought they were being watched. Tarzan scoffed and asked how it was possible, since they were 14 storeys high. And then he turned to the window. And saw the window cleaner. In a cradle. Washing the entire block’s windows…

Thumper

As tight Yorkshiremen go, Thumper has even got Batman licked. I once asked him to explain the cheapest way for me to undertake the famous Ale Trail through West Yorkshire’s train lines. Now he seemed like the perfect person for the job, since he a) loves a bargain, and b) works in route and service planning for a local public transport group. And, to his credit, he did explain it to me. But I’m buggered if I can remember what he said, such was the contrivance of it all.

His weekday evening meals normally consist of whatever has been reduced for a short shelf life at Coop across the road. Often he gets lucky and arrives with a pre-packed sandwich. But I’ve seen him on various occasions devour a soon-to-be-off block of cheese, some already-questionable cured meats, and some vegan pastries that even vegans wouldn’t eat.

Such is his desire for value for money, he’s even a member of a Facebook group bemoaning the amount of chips on a portion at various Wetherspoons around the country.

His unconventional meals aren’t, however, solely driven by his desire for a bargain on a weekday evening. Oh no. Here is a man who freely admits to queueing for OVER AN HOUR for a Sunday roast. Whilst on holiday. In Spain.

He recently returned from a fortnight in Malta. And whilst he was there, took great pleasure in sharing with his friends photos of his favourite meal from his holiday. Typical Maltese cuisine? I think you know already that the answer to that is no.

A cheese burger and chips…

Now I’m sure he knows he’s going to get stick for this and plays up to it. But sometimes, things happen to him that he cannot predict.

Wherever he goes, he takes his trusty rucksack with him. Heaven knows what he puts in it, but I have seen him squirrel away various orange-sticker bargains from Coop which require a little more effort than munching straight down.

He also leaves the bag unattended frequently. Which has allowed me to secrete various paraphernalia, such as bottle caps, straws, parts of the newspaper, leaflets, beer mats and the like. Only for him to discover them strewn around his belongings after the arduous half-hour walk back to his house.

But that is nothing compared to the time one of his mates put a brick in his bag. Yes, a brick. A full red house brick. And Thumper carried his now-significantly-heavier bag all the way home before he discovered the mischief.

If you enjoy reading about the regulars at The Last Drop Inn, please share it with your friends and family. It only takes a second, but really helps grow the readership. Please also add a comment; I’d love to know your thoughts on this and every update!