02 Feb 08

Hammy

Feeling ill, Hammy didn’t want to go to the Ring O’ Bells. He wanted to stay in and recouperate from recent benders. He invited me to his flat where he explained that recouperation involved not going out to drink, but instead, drinking at home. As he made a vodka and orange, I admired his wall-mounted bottle rack with optics.

“My mum thinks you’re killing yourself with all of this drinking,” I said. “I go out with you on a Saturday night, and you drink right through until Sunday night.”
“That goes without saying,” Hammy said. “Sometimes it’s from a Friday night straight through until Sunday. And on a Sunday I don’t even touch beer, I’m straight on the spirits. I used to drink every night and love it, and carry on till I could take no more. It was like lifeblood – the lifeblood of the universe.”
“Are you looking to quit?”
“No, it’s like quitting breathing. I’ve calmed it down a lot. I’m bored of hangovers at work, and going in looking like Mr. Cadbury’s Parrot – looking at myself in the mirror in the morning, and seeing one of my eyes looking at me and the other looking for me.”
“What do you prefer to drink?”
“Anything with a vowel in it. If you can’t pronounce it and it’s Welsh, I won’t drink it. I like getting fucking hammered – power drinking. Sometimes I step it up a gear and drink with a load of hooligans.”
“When I left for America you were more interested in women than drinking, has that reversed?”
“When I’m on day one or two, women are still high on the list. On day three or four they slip down the pecking order.”
“Aza told me you’ve slept with half the women in this town.”
“I’ve had strangers come up to me in the street, ask me my name and say, ‘You don’t know who I am do you?’ I look at them bewildered, and they say, ‘You’re me dad.’ One time I was fucking wankered – I had a full week’s growth and I’m looking like Grizzly Adams – and this girl comes up to me and says, ‘This is him. I’ve found him,’ to these young lads. I’m looking at her. I’ve got a crate in each arm and a bottle under my chin – I’m fully laden with spirits. And there’s beer and slobber running down my T-shirt. Anyway, she says, ‘You’d better start putting your hand in your pocket for pocket money for me.’ I don’t say anything. Then she says, ‘But I’ll start off with one of them beers.’ That’s when I knew it had to be my daughter. She was about fifteen. That’s going back some years. I probably didn’t remember the mum the next day.”
“What do you think of the women in Liverpool?”
“We’ll go to Liverpool. There’s so many women there we’ll get raped. You’ll end up having knee tremblers against a wall.”
“Knee tremblers?”
Thrusting his pelvis, Hammy said, “Yeah, doing it up against a wall.”
“How is your sex life going?”
“I like to have sex when I’m on drink. They come hand in hand.You missed the Hulk last night. She calls every few months for a fuck. She broke my bed riding me like a cowgirl. That’s why the microwave oven is under my bed.”
“When I've been in a happy relationship with a good woman, I've managed to get my excesses under control. Maybe a strong woman would put you in check. What qualities are you looking for in a woman?”
“It depends on what stage of the night it’s at. And in the end I always have my beer goggles on. I go to bed with Claudia Schiffer and I wake up with Margaret Thatcher.”
“Perhaps the influence of a good woman will help get you off the drink. If you meet the right one will you get married?”
“Possibly. Later. I don’t know. I’m only thirty-seven.”
“I’ve noticed that when we go out, as the night progresses, your voice slowly turns into what your friends describe as the pirate voice. You never had that when I left. How did it come about?”
“The more I drink, the more the pirate voice comes out. I can’t help it. When I’m completely off my barnet, I sound like I’ve just come back from an expedition on the Spanish Main loaded with booty from the Caribbean.”


I’m worried about Hammy’s health. I’ve asked him to go jogging, and to try to go easier on the drinking. What else can I do to help him?

Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below

Copyright © 2007-2008 Shaun P. Attwood