Dave and Vinny: The Gratitude Experiment

Thursday nights at The Rampant Horse had all the trappings of tradition: The faint smell of chip fat from the back, and Vinny’s dog Scraps curled up under a table the like a depressed rug.

Dave nudged open the door, wiping his boots on the mat more out of habit than necessity. He spotted Vinny already propped up at the bar like a gargoyle with a pint.

“You’re early,” said Dave, settling onto the stool next to him.

“Got bored of watching Bargain Hunt. Thought I’d come down and look at other forms of human disappointment.” Vinny nodded towards the far end of the bar where Lecherous Lee was mid-flirt with Sandra the barmaid, who pretended to be wiping the same patch of counter for the fifth time.

Dave chuckled. “One of these days, she’s going to clout him with a bar stool.”

“Aye,” Vinny sipped his pint. “And I want a front-row seat.”

Behind the bar, Ken eyed the two of them suspiciously.

“Don’t start. It’s been a quiet night. No arguments, no lost dogs, no Keith pretending his cough is fatal.”

As if summoned, sick note Keith shuffled in just then, wheezing dramatically.

“Lads, I’m on antibiotics that say I shouldn’t drink, so I’ll just have a double rum and Coke.”

Vinny raised an eyebrow. “What are the antibiotics for, Keith?”