Old farts, sit on their Pub bench like book ends...

On Tuesday evening I went to a meeting of people from the local O gauge group, who, as far as I knew had started meeting up for a friendly chat every week instead of waiting every month for the main club get togethers. I assumed it was also because the monthly events are usually at members' houses and in their gardens and not everyone is into garden railways. I certainly am not. Why model in a scale that suits scenery and then make it run through throroughly un-scale scenery. So I don't go to the monthlies any more.
I had a few questions and thought a Tuesday nighter would be ideal. For many reasons I haven't been for a couple of years and so I thought an email to someone who always went would ascertain the continued habit.  But no answer came, so I went anyway.  I poodled over in the newly reducing daylight and seemed to be one of the only ones there.  I bought a customary half pint of something that looked interesting and went to sit at the table where we always sat. But, after a long time away I thought a polite "is this the model railway people?" would be in order.  A mean faced little man then made every pained expression his permanently tight facial muscles would allow in an attempt at protest, but he managed "well you're here now, not much I can do about it".  He interrogated me about my likes in the hobby and why I hadn't attended very often.  If my beer had been of a lesser quality and cheaper, he'd have been wearing it.  He then went into a diatribe about somebody having caused problems and nearly caused the end of the meetings, so disruptive was he and so now it was all only by invitation.  He neglected to explain how anyone might be invited.  He said how they only liked about 6 people to attend.  As the 9th one arrived I fell into conversation with a chap who clearly remembered me taking a particular model when I last went and he had a very good answer for the problem I had with it.  Exactly the point of the meeting I would have thought.  But the mean little man constantly looked around like he was losing control of things and boy, he didn't like it. He didn't like one of HIS friends sitting at the other end of the table and insisted loudly that he move to a spare space at the "top table".
THEN.....the man who apparently had caused all the trouble 2 weeks earlier turned up.  Suddenly, the mean little man went quiet. A burble went round the table. Somebody was volunteered to "say something".  Something was said, awkwardly. The man said he attended other things at the venue and didn't know what the fuss was all about, but the offended ones insisted that he leave or they would all cease to meet there, which would cripple the sports centre (Ha!). I could no longer stand the tension, so I said clearly they would all be happy if not only the miscreant left but me too.  Outside I met the lady who runs the place and told her of what was going on in her establishment.  She was very annoyed.  I opined that perhaps they'd kicked out the wrong man. She said she kicked people out, not them.  There was also a chap who'd been told to remove his noisy child by one of the old farts and a separate barney had kicked off over that.  I can only hope that I helped to cause sufficient trouble to ruin their evening and any to come.

Their actions were so much those of Old Farts that I felt like a 20 something for just a while there.  If I ever become like them, shoot me.  I drove home in my drophead Peugeot and left them to their Honda Jazzes and Mondeo estates, poor old fools.

I shall now do my models entirely alone away from these turds and their petty squabbles, their kitbashing and their damned illness swapping conversation.