I went for a beer last night. It was quite late, about 10pm but a mate of mine has just come back from New Zealand for a few weeks and I was hoping to catch up with him in the pub. Anyway when I got there, he wasn't there and I settled down at the bar for a couple of beers on my own. After five minutes of a bit of a chat with a couple of the bar staff, I noticed this chap who was obviously the worse for wear came bowling out of the restaurant part of the pub and somehow ended up right next to me at the bar. That was a clever manouver on his part because I was the only person at the bar. He had a choice another twenty foot of bar space to land at but he was there stood right next to me. I ignored the bloke while he ordered a drink for himself and then without any encouragement from me, he started telling me how he had been in the Navy. It was a surreal experience because at this stage, I hadn't even acknowledged that he was even in the room! Anyway after informing me that he had been in the navy, he then started to tell me how he had served as an armed policeman for a long time after his time in the mob and was now in the immigration service and the party tonight was his leaving do. He then got onto the juicy bit about how he had been on the helicopter that flew to Chile/Argentina on a covert operation. All pretty weird really because I still hadn't actually spoken at all to him. So there our hero was on the helicopter to Chile/Argentina and when they landed there, they destroyed a few super etendards which helped to end the war and then he hot footed it across the border to Chile. My only interaction with this bloke so far had been to glance at him once or twice while he regaled me with his tale of heroic endevours on all our behalves down south. At this point, he seemed to notice that I had not said anything so he said, "well mate, whats your story". He's obviously a mind reader because as I previously said, I hadn't spoken a word to him never mind tell him that I had been in the mob at some stage in my life. Anyway seeing as he asked, I just said, I had six years in the infantry, two as a boy soldier and four years in a battalion where I'd been across the water on three occasions. He asked where in Ireland so I said , Belfast the first time, Armagh the second time and back to Belfast for the third and last time. "Oh yeah", he said, "Omaha, I've been there as well. I spent quite a bit of time in Omaha doing a bit of this and a bit of that". I said to him, um, do you mean Armagh? Anyway thankfully, at this stage, a woman and a bloke came out from the restaurant looking for him, colleagues from the immigration service and they very welcomely took his attention. Ten minutes later, a cab came along and took him off home wherever that is. I was having a bit of a laugh to myself and even the barman who had been earwigging said to me "Omaha!", what's he on? Apart from being an amusing interlude in what was a fairly mundane evening, it was just very strange. A complete stranger had just walked up to me in a pub I've been drinking in for thirty years without any invitation whatsoever and given me a real walt story. I even did wonder for a few brief seconds whether some arrsers had set me up! Anyway, on the off chance that my new friend and walting twat haunts arrse and reads the walt posts, if you were in the Red Lion last night, that was me you were talking to, you walting twat.