Wetherspoons On A Wednesday

Wetherspoons On A Wednesday

On Wednesdays, on the warm days,
Wetherspoons open up their patio-pavement-windows
to let the draft beer drift out, and the railings
are up, concreted in so the punters stay in a little longer,
with their threadbare wallets and loyalty card schemes
tucked at the front in front of their bank cards and various licences.

Because Aquarian visionaries all need a place to drink,
as do the cut-out-coupon regulars that flock in,
so do the girls in leather dresses with
their khaki boyfriends in tow like mooring rope thrown over and tightened to hold.
Noose-necked skinny jeaned lads arrive early to make the most of the before-five-lunchtime deal,
the college collective waste an hour with sour shots and pints,
resigned men in suits and proper-shoes unwind with empty glasses and safe-for-the-internet free wi-fi,
new staff join the old staff ranks of glass collectors and button presses
whilst the trained-up managers take an hour off from their no work at all work.