For Those About To Rock

Duuuuuuude, long time no see!

My old friend Biscuit-Baws boomed as he got up and ran at me from the table outside the cafe where he had been sitting.

Biscuit-Baws? How the hell are you doing man! It's been fucking years!

I couldn't help but grin. Me and Biscuit-Baws had been friends for ages since we had first formed a band together many years ago.

He stood in front of me, still after all this time looking like some kind of grinning meat poncho.

Ach, come here you!

He stepped forward and grabbed me in a giant bear hug.

Calm it, ya mad banger. Covid, remember?!

I gave him a friendly shove backwards. He had put on a bit of weight over the intervening years since I had seen him so it was like trying to shove a cow into a bag.

He guffawed and motioned me over to the table from which he had erupted only moments before.

So, what you been up to man?

He peered at me and licked his lips intensely as if he had just bitten into a particularly tomatoey vagina.

I shrugged my shoulders in the way of men who used to be playas but are no more.

Dunno, not much. Settled down, bought a house, had kids. You know, the usual shit. What about you?

We hadn't spoken for almost ten years, I knew next to nothing about what he had been up to. He had always been a hedonistic bastard. I wondered if he was still living La Vida Loca, like Ricky Martin but with fewer penises.

He reared his head back as if to whinny then fixed me with manic eyes.

Remember Mad-Bird?

He nodded as if asking himself a rhetorical question.

You remember her. Oh aye. Well, I fucking married her, well, not really married but we moved in together. But guess what? Fucking guess?

I opened my mouth to guess but Biscuit-Baws was already babbling on furiously.

She was fucking mental?! Fucking mad as fuck. She nearly threw me out of a window one night?!

He held his hands out to the side as if catching a very large ball.

I puffed sympathetically.

Aye mate, she was always nuts. That's why we called her Mad-Bird, remember?

I grinned, I had fond memories of Mad-Bird. She had always been a bit of a laugh despite her unfeasibly large feet.

Aye, well. That was four fucking years wasted.

Biscuit-Baws looked around edgily.

Anyway, fuck the birds. I've got something important to talk about.
_{At this point it should be noted that 'birds' is Glaswegian slang for women/girls. I know, it's not very PC but hey, I don't make the rules.}

Go on, do tell.

I mouthed 2 Flat Whites at a bored-looking fop standing nearby with a black apron-like skirt on. Inwardly, I hoped that he worked there and I hadn't offended a trans person.

I was thinking of getting the band together again man...

He leaned over, his expression frantic as if trying to explain Bubble Tea to an Irishman.

What? Fuck off. We are ancient. How in any way could that be good?

Our flat whites arrived and we paused for a second whilst the bored fop shakily plopped them down.

Biscuit-Baws looked perplexed.

Mate, we can get gigs all over the place. Get back on the road. I've got a van. Remember the tours, man?

He tapped his feet energetically and downed his coffee in one with an enthusiastic slurp.

Yeah, it was great but fuck sake, I have kids now and Im fucking looking down the barrel at the big 50... Soooo, I dont think I fancy it.

I said this with no little regret.

Biscuit-Baws nodded contemplatively then grinned secretively.

Before you make any rash decisions, dude. I know of something that might change your mind.

He put something in his fist and pushed it along the table at me motioning at it with a wink and a tip of his head.

Get to the toilets and snort a wee line. That will sort you right out.

Reluctantly, I shook my head.

I don't think so, mate. Sorry.

He sniffed in disgust and tucked his little bag of 'gear' away.

You've changed.

He said wistfully.

I shrugged my shoulders and picked up my coffee.

Yeah. I know.