The Arctic Expedition

‘I am just going outside and may be some time,’ says Andy as he leaves his nice warm house for a sub-zero mission to support the newly-reopened pub.

Aware that it’s outdoor seating only and that lockdown might have made him a bit soft, Andy has been training hard for this adventure. He has practised wearing trousers. He has relearned how to hold a pint glass instead of a can. He has acclimatised himself to the unseasonably cold conditions by standing outside his back door for a few extra minutes every day. Now he is ready.

Thanks to these rigorous preparations Andy successfully reaches the pub, where he meets up with his intrepid companions, Mike, Pete and Dave. Dave is wearing shorts and a T-shirt, because that’s what proper British blokes wear to the pub in all weathers. Andy and the others joke that Dave will get frostbite at EVERY extremity but they are secretly impressed by such ruggedness.  

They spend the whole evening discussing sport, not because the months of lockdown have left them with nothing better to talk about, but because they always spend the whole evening discussing sport. The European Super League fiasco keeps them in amateur punditry for three hours. Mike is made to buy an extra round for being smug about supporting the unexpectedly transcendent West Ham.

Nobody mentions the weather because to complain about the hail and the sleet and the bitter east wind would be unmanly. Dave buys the fourth round and then the fifth. Such uncharacteristic generosity leads to much banter about him hitting on the barmaid, but the truth is that Dave is losing sensation in his arms and legs and doesn’t want to be remembered for having perished without getting his rounds in.

They pretend not to notice when it starts snowing. When Dave turns an interesting shade of blue everyone jokes about how lucky it is that he’s a Chelsea fan. Pete goes to remonstrate with the man whose group has been hogging the outdoor heater all evening. ‘We got here first,’ says the man, like Roald Amundsen. ‘Twat,’ says Pete, less stoical than Robert Scott.  

They battle on valiantly, determined to stay the course until closing time. After all, says Mike as he breaks the ice on his seventh pint, when Nelson said England expects that every man will do his duty this was exactly the sort of self-sacrifice he meant. Dave’s stiff upper lip is now frozen solid, making it quite tricky to drink without dribbling. Long icicles of beer form on his chin. At last it’s time to go and as they huddle together, aglow with beer and camaraderie and heroism, to wave Dave off in his ambulance, they all agree it has been an epic evening and they must do it again.

© C P Jenkinson 04/05/2021

For more Corona Caricatures follow the links below, or for a full list click the Archive at the top of this page.

To receive email notification of future posts please fill in the form on the Homepage. No marketing or spam, promise.

Thank you for reading and please share!