Harp (Covent Garden)

Marlon Borunki (The End)

My friend Sonny wants to kill himself. He has a toxic blood disease you see, and he doesn’t like pain.

I don’t like pain either, I was bullied as a child. So I have agreed to help him end it; it’s probably for the best.

We’ve tried everything. Tried to squash his head beneath a hospital bed, tried to hang him from a tree, we even tried pushing him from a clock tower (that Big Bill). No joy.

Trouble is, after all our attempts, Sonny is still alive and I think he partly blames me. “Thick Polack” he called me when I last saw him, and since our bodged attempt at hanging him, Sonny hasn’t talked to me, I can’t find him.

So I’ve popped in to a pub called The Harp at 3 on a Wednesday afternoon, looking for my friend Sonny.

Now I’ve been in some funny places, I mean, I’m escaped from the nut-house for heavens sake, but I can safely say that I have never seen a group of characters quite like those in here! Trying to order a Dr Pepper has immediately made me a laughing stock.

I don’t like people laughing at me, so am trying to move away from the bar, but the place is so small that there is nowhere to get away from it.

So I’m standing here at the bar with these crazy Irishmen, I don’t know what they are talking about, but they seem to find everything funny. I recognise the word “Eejit”, I hope its not about me, I had enough of that from my dad:

“Who was Poland’s man of the year? No one”
“Do you know the Polish National anthem? You don’t sing it, you fart it!”
“How do you tell a Polac’s ID? By the s**t in his wallet!”

He was a horrible man, a horrible man! 

*I wonder if these people like me?  I hope they like me. Sonny likes me, Sonny is my friend.*

They’re all laughing now, maybe I should join in, “Hahahahahahahahaha!…Good one!”,..Yeah, I think they like me yeah,..These are friends,..One of them is giving me a real good slap on the back now. “Hahahahahaha!”

Oh crap! I’ve dropped my drink in my lap. This is gonna be embarrassing in front of my new friends. I had better go, don’t wanna ruin a good thing.

*Jumps up still laughing, jokily pointing a finger at each of the guys in turn as he says “Goodbye”*

“It’s been great lads but I gotta go, ..Hahahahha, yeah,…Erm,.. I’ve gotta go and kill my friend Sonny, or he’ll never speak to me again,…Bye!”

I can still hear the laughter from the pub as I walk down towards the Strand.  Lovely people, (I should have got their numbers) I tell myself. Better get this cleaned up though I guess.

*Starts walking down towards The Strand, dials The Coal Hole number*

“Hello John, Marlon from the other night here,..Good, good yeah,..Yeah,..Listen John, don’t suppose you have seen my friend Sonny today have ya?  No,..Oh well, I’ll pop down for a spritzer anyway,..Oh and John, you have hand dryers in the rest rooms there don’t you?”

Marlon Borunki’s rating for The Coach & Horses – 6 / 10

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