Grapes (Limehouse)

Cole Trickle (Days of Thunder)

The lead in a film called Days of Thunder is a man called Cole Trickle. Doesn’t that sound a bit ridiculous to you?

It should.

When the producers first approached me the script was gonna be called The Right Stock.

Based on my life story, that’s what they said … my life racing cars in a daft American motor sport series …

I jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t? But it was all a jerk-off; one big piss-take from the off.

In case you haven’t guessed yet, my real name isn't Cole Trickle. Of course it ain’t; even the most hateful parents would never give their kid such a stupid name. As for Days of Thunder? Yeah, very funny Hollywood. A pathetic fart joke from a buncha juvenile script writers.

The way I see it, incontinence should never be a target for ridicule. It’s a proper, medical ailment after all. That’s why I went to see the redhead Doctor Nicole. It weren’t down to no crash, that’s for sure. 

Before you judge, let me ask YOU a question. What bloke doesn’t occasionally feel a warm dribble down the leg after a few pints and a less-than-careful shake-down in the gents? As for thunder; yeah, ha ha, I suffer from prolific flatulence. Big freaking joke. It’s called irritable bowel syndrome you insensitive jerks and it’s a REAL illness.

Naturally, after the film came out, I became a laughing stock in the pit lanes.

“Hey buddy, you got yer nappy on today?” they used to scream.

It hurt. Even though I reminded them that NASA astronauts wear nappies – hurtling through space or driving across the US of A to butcher love rivals.

“Hey Mr Trickle, is that a swimming pool in your pocket, or are you just pleased to ‘pee’ me?” That was another one.

I tried to be dignified, but in the end I couldn’t stand the indignity. I had to stop driving – and start boozing. I moved too. From Daytona, or wherever it was the film was based, to London.

I ended up in the east end. The new, posh bit. I had a bundle of cash from the racing gigs so I set up near the Wharf of Canaries. And started coming down here – the Grapes in Limehouse.

Now, since I’ve been asked to write a review about this pub, I’ll tell you a few things. The pub is great – my favourite in fact. I’ve learnt to love prawns in a pint pot. And I get a magnificent view of the Thames.

But the walk upstairs to the khasi is a killer. If I wasn’t such a short-arse, I’d bang my head every time. The steps are so steep, I need a ladder.

‘part from that; the pub’s a winner. And I’m a winner.

Fastest dribble in the east.

Cole Trickle’s rating for the Grapes – 9 / 10

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