Man about town

Here coming towards us we have the typical Bon viveur and man about town.
After a pleasant night out with his friends for a few drinks and a lot of laughs he's now making his way home but having felt a bit peckish he's stopped in a well known town centre chippy. This is a difficult three cushion shot, off the door frame into the side wall slide along the counter and into another late night face filler.
After the traditional greeting of 'Whachulookinat' he's bought the usual English late night delicacy of pie and chips having emptied out a pocket full of change and allowed the staff to separate out the right amount like a tourist in his own country and having managed something between a run and an unsuccessful fall through the door is now sampling this culinary delight as he starts to make his way to the bus stop.
He cuts a rakish figure (he thinks) in the standard dress of shoes that would look acceptable and unremarkable below any business suit, trousers that probably took a day of shopping to finally select but look just the same as everyone else's and all topped off with a short sleeved shirt which took the same care and attention to pick and a passer by will have forgotten the instant they looked away.
It's the end of the night now though and things are looking a little less perfect than when he was slapping on the aftershave before leaving home.
Bacardi Breezer does not go well with a check shirt but if he wont take no for an answer then that's going to happen. What the hell. If she can't recognise a good thing when it's breathing beer and fags down her ear then sod her.
The shoes are looking a bit scuffed on the toes as the council persist in putting bloody great steep curbs in all round town and why do they have to put the replacements in at night whilst he's out enjoying himself.
Trousers so carefully selected were now perhaps not quite the right choice as cream tends to show up the damp patch on the inside of the thigh whose origin is best left uninvestigated.
We've identified the competitor, described his colours and now for the nights regional Pie Juggling heat.

As a warm up he's delving into the vinegar dampened paper and going for the chips, an easy starter for 10 you may think but the hand hovering over the container like the grab in a fairground gift machine is less than steady. Several attempts to grab a chip having come to nought he attempts a wider grip and a lunge and Yes! four chips in the hand. Now for the mouth steady, steady, Oh bad luck. Half a chip in the mouth and the rest across the cheek and off onto the floor. Undaunted he's in for another go. The technique now learned, wide grip, lunge and another handful. More this time and something in the primordial memory suggests a change of tactic. Mouth agape, head on one side, he attempts to lower them into the maw again like the fairground crane dropping the grabbed toy into the dispenser and.....with about as much success. a couple in and the closing mouth chops off the rest which fall to the floor. Still a satisfied smile as he chomps on those chips that made it.
Now for the main event, the pie.
Grasping the pie he starts to lift it to his mouth and sinks his remaining teeth into the corner only to flick it skywards, surprise surprise, it's hot. He manages to keep it airborne for a second or two with a couple of flailing attempts to retrieve it but loses sight and interest.  Blowing air and half chewed chip through his burnt lips and onto his burnt fingers as he mutters slurred obscenities he maneuvers for a second attempt. No pie. This takes a while to register as the two brain cells that remain working attempt to find each other but he's now staring at the pile of chips, minus pie. The fact that it's landed on his shoe takes a while to register as the heat transmits through the slip on. Luckily it's on the one foot that is staying rooted to the spot and not the one thats' being constantly thrown around to maintain at least the resemblance of an upright stance.
He bends, slowly, to retrieve the pie and as he raises it tentatively to his mouth topples slowly forward until his head rests on the chip shop window.
Finally happy having achieved balance with both feet splayed apart and head against the glass he remains there, with a stupified grin, finishing the pie and chips with Cherry Blossom relish.