sat upstairs in the corner

In a bar with Andy and there are swarms of underage girls sitting in all the seats. The girls are all around us, getting chatted up by older men, some of the girls are being chaperoned by their mother's. People are taking photographs of me and Andy; the flash terrorizes my head. We haven't bought a drink so we leave. Stumble around a pub looking for something to find, up the stairs and down the stairs and all around the stairs. There is a crowd of people watching us, as we shamelessly steal handfuls and handfuls of condiments; little sachets of Heinz Tomato Ketchup and Mayonaise. Our hands repeatedly grasp at the packets spasmodically, like one of those arcade-grabber-machines, but one that you can actually win, and you do win every time. Then a man comes and tells us not to steal because he is a dick-wod; I just look away, put another handful in my pocket and make some kind of manly gesture when his back is turned.