Clandestine Phone Calls in The Red Lion Arlingham

Brian Streaters Streatfield

Brian ‘Streaters’ Streatfield

I was having a nice pint of Uley Bitter with that distinctive hoppy, fruity flavour, in The Red Lion Arlingham, Gloucestershire, when my mate Streaters walked in talking into his cupped hand. “For goodness sake Streaters; you’re acting like a complete loon. There’s a gang of ‘Hells Angels’ over there and they’ll have you for breakfast after all that Pigs Ear they’ve been drinking!” I said, worried about the old fool.
“Don’t worry,” said Streaters, “I’m not crazy, I’ve got a cell phone implanted in my hand. I can make phone calls while I’m driving.” And to prove it, Streaters tapped the palm of his hand with his finger and held his hand up to my ear. “Fucking hell, it’s actually working,” I said.

Anyway, after a couple of pints, Streaters heads off to the Gents and after 20 minutes, I’m getting a little concerned that the Hells Angels have roughed him up. So the Landlord and I go to look for him. We walked into the WC and see Streaters laying naked on the floor with a toilet roll poking out of his arse. “Oh Shit, I Knew this was going to happen!” I said. “Are you all right, mate?”

And he replies, “Yeah, I’m fine thanks – just waiting for a fax to come through!”

A Celebration of The Life of Brian. Brian ‘Streaters’ Streatfield, born 4th October 1938 – 25th July 2014. He was like an Uncle to me, he was a dear, dear friend and I loved him very much.

This series of ‘The Red Lion Arlingham’ ‘Pub Jokes’ marked Streaters is my little tribute to a man who loved a pint in a good pub; he was also the bloke that I loved to have a pint with, and I’ll miss him forever. Rest in peace you wonderful old ‘B’

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