The lift smells like the inside of a stripper's G-string

epub or mobi, many thanks to Max for the contribution & the original sharers

The four of them struggle into the booth, Walter and Maureen with their backs against the wall, Eddie and his wife Shirley on the low stools opposite them. Five seconds after they've sat down Walter says, "All right, then, where's the fucking drinks?"     

"Fucking place this is," says Eddie, lighting the wrong end of his cigarette.

"Coming, coming," Maurice shouts from beyond the throng at the bar.

"That'll be the day," Maureen says and they all fall about laughing again. Maurice ponces over again and apologizes for the poor service and Walter blows him a kiss and there's more laughter.

Then Walter focuses on me again and says, "So how's your governors keeping then?"

"Nice and fat, like you two," I tell him. "It's only people like me that keep slim."

"Up the bleeding workers," Maureen says, crossing her legs so you can see right up to the maker's name.

"No good flashing in here darling," Walter says. "The dirty looks won't be the kind you're wanting." 

"Don't you fucking believe it," Maureen says and swivels round on her seat and places her elbows on the table behind her and lifts her legs in the air and opens them wide. Shirley nearly pees herself and the crowd at the bar all have heart attacks.

"Here, you fucking ponces, don't you know it's rude to ignore a lady when she winks at you?"

This is too much for Shirley who slides onto her side on the booth seat. Walter spins Maureen round in her seat and says, "All right, keep them on. We've all seen it before."

"Not bloody lately you haven't."

"I'm the only one then. I'm telling you. Pack it in." Maureen starts swearing at him but she's interrupted by Maurice arriving with the drinks.

"That slag behind the bar," Maurice says, dishing out. "She'll have to bleeding go."