Tony and me don't like Wednesdays. It's a shit day for us. To escape the boredom of being unemployed, we've decided to get a bus over to the other side of town, and meet up with our old mate Glen. Glen is also unemployed, tattooed and has a problem with non-English people.
We're going to meet him at one of his favourite pubs, have a few pints, and then see where we go from there. Unfortunately, our cash supply has almost dwindled away to nothing, and we're waiting impatiently for our unemployment benefit to hit our bank accounts. Tony says that life is hard enough as it is, and that us unemployed are penalised for just wanting to have a little bit of pleasure. I mean, is it too much to ask? The price of lager is sky-high, cigarettes are becoming a luxury, and the government just add to our misery by paying us very little, for sitting around all day and doing nothing.
Tony reckons that if things carry on like this, he's going to seriously consider getting a job. I told him that he's talking rubbish, and it will soon be winter, and that it will get dark early, and it will be freezing cold outside. Tony thought about what I said and agreed that he was being foolish, and that perhaps he will wait until spring before he even thinks about looking for a job.