Zen and the art of drug dealing

Held my usual Tuesday night music club tonight. Smashy wants to buy the Fender, so it's going to a good home I don't think I need to send Lenny round to collect the money. Tony turned up with his new BMW convertable. We all went to look at it. It has sat nav and a DVD player that slides out of the dashboard and flips up to a eight inch screen How cool is that? We all took turns to sit in it and marvel at the engineering. It's a beautiful car. Don't ask me any technical questions about it. I haven't a fucking clue. He told me but it went straight over my head. He told me but I've forgotten already it has 300 and something BHP and does 0- 60 in a nano second. Sometimes I wish I could be as enthusiastic about cars as Tony. I'd love to be able to swap statistics on performance and such like. But really I have no interest. I just know that I can look at Tony's car and think "yeah! It's a good looking car."

The drug dealer was in my pub tonight. I thought he had been banned. He called me over. "you played the Cavendish Saturday night."
"Yeah and you said I was shite."
"well respect man. I said you were shite and you admitted it. Respect."
"whatever."
"hey what do they call you when you're not Mike da hat?"
"Mike."
"are you trying to be funny wiv me?"
"you don't need me to be funny with you." he's funny enough by himself.
His cohorts chimed in "Don't dis the man." They're too scared of him to say anything else. But the man is cool.
"You were fucking shite. " He spat at me.
With him were people I've known for a few years. They wriggled uncomfortably in their seats. They were sort of friends of mine and I'm sure they realised that this guy was a total loser. But they couldn't say anything. They were caught between THE MAN and their consciences. I was getting bored with the conversation.
I said "It was a great night until I got heckled. By you." And I walked away. I'm not sure it was the best riposte. But it was all I had.

The iPod is playing nothing right now because I don't own one.