Ladhood (2019) s01e02 Episode Script

Look, I've decided to do a month off the booze.
Oh, really? What? You don't think I can do it? No, no.
I don't want you to make yourself miserable because you feel like you need to apologise.
That's not going to be a factor either way.
I'll be miserable whether I drink or not.
The point is that I've said I'm going to do it, so I'm going to do it.
And I want to do it and I can do it.
- So, you'll see me do it.
- Well, that's great.
- Yeah.
It is.
- Sorry this can't be helping, so Oh, right, I better go.
- Got that work social.
- Oh, yeah.
What is it again? Crazy golf, AKA drinking overpriced cocktails whilst men show off about being able to tap a ball into a clam's mouth, which is important for bonding, apparently.
What are you going to do tonight, then? - Well, my lot are all off for a curry.
- Great.
Nah.
They'll all be drinking.
It'll be depressing.
Why don't you go and do something else, sociable and fun that doesn't need you to have drink? - Like what? - You know Claire's boyfriend, Finn? Yeah.
He's in that men's cookery club.
I think this week they're doing steaks, then next week they're doing a chicken cooked on a non-alcoholic beer can.
- I'll go for the curry.
- Bye.
Well, have fun.
I'll miss you.
- I'll miss you.
- Love you.
- Love you.
Have a good night.
It's probably been about 15 years since I went a Friday night without drinking.
Except for that time last year I had gastroenteritis and couldn't get out of bed.
And even then, I had a couple of Tyskies just to take the edge off.
To go out on a Friday and not drink and seem happy and talk to people.
How the fuck are you supposed to do that? Where does it come from, this idea, this conviction that Fridays are for nothing but drinking? It's eerily reminiscent of those pre-booze days.
Me and my mates round Craggy's playing PS2, bored as fuck.
Fuck sake.
Another fucking Friday with nowt happening.
Nah, it's fucking shit.
Come on, lads.
There's loads of fun stuff we could do tonight.
Like what? We can stay in and play Tekken, you know, or stay in and play FIFA, or stay in and play Metal Gear.
Addy, they're all the same option, mate.
Stay in and play the same shitty PS2 game we've completed about eight times.
- I aren't lying.
- I'm sorry, but I just don't believe you.
Kayleigh, I aren't lying, I swear.
Cragg, give us that plug.
What you doing, Lucy? I just said I'm using the plug, Cragg, for my hair straightener.
- Stop calling me Cragg.
- Why? It's your name, innit? You don't call your own brother by his surname.
- Call me Tom.
- Shut up, Cragg.
At least give me a bit of that vodka in exchange.
Eh, I aren't giving you vodka, you'd be on the floor? And anyway, I've got plugs in my own room, you know? Don't need to use yours.
Well, why are you in here, then? Because I don't want to be sitting in a room full of hairspray, do I? Right, where we are we off tonight then? Right, let's go Mint, then Space, then Buzz, then Heaven And Hell, then Baha, then Bondi.
No, no, no.
Let's go Birdcage, then Flares, then Baha, then Mint, then back to Birdcage, then Mission.
Then we get a taxi to Wakefield and go to Buzz.
Then we get a taxi back to Leeds, walk about and then Majestic.
All right, sick! Does my skirt look all right like this? Yeah.
It looks well nice, love.
Well, that's proper weird that.
- What are your crossing your legs for? - Just cos.
You've got a boner, haven't you? - No.
- Who's got a boner? - Ralf.
- I haven't.
- You dirty little bastard.
I don't have a boner.
I was just crossing my legs.
You've never crossed your legs in your fucking life.
- Why all of a sudden are you doing it now? - I've wanted to try it.
Cragg, your mates are fucking disgusting.
Dirty old bastard.
I can't fucking take this, me.
Come on.
I can't take another Friday night like this.
That's ruined my night, that.
I can't go out now.
I know, it's so disgusting.
That's proper immature, right, get out.
Get your lob on away from me.
Fuck it, lads.
Let's just get pissed.
You say that every Friday, Craggy, and you never manage to cos you can't get no booze.
What was going to be different this time? Our collective drinking experience was very limited.
Addy, as a Muslim, had never tried alcohol at all because intoxicants are proscribed by the Koran.
He did smoke, though, because smoking isn't explicitly haram, which means forbidden.
Although, I believe that some Muslim scholars do consider smoking haram on the basis eh, this isn't relevant to this story, really, is it? No wonder Craggy felt desperate to drink.
Everybody did.
The week only made sense because of Friday night and Friday night only made sense because of booze.
New Labour introduced 24-hour alcohol licensing on the premise that it would bring CAFE culture to Britain and post-industrial.
Northern towns would suddenly become like Paris.
Tough on binge, tough on the causes of binge.
Have you had some vodka? Have you had some wine? I've got to say this, all right.
My greatest and only dream in life is to, one day, get pissed.
And I believe that with determination, that day can be today.
Basically, I just want to get battered.
Yes, Craggy.
You legend.
I'm with you, man, tonight's the night.
Liam.
We're going to get smashed, boys.
Well, it'll only take one sip cos you're a fucking girl.
- Shut up, you silly prick.
- Put your hand in.
Lads, I'm going to put my hand in too, but only halfway, cos I'm not going to get pissed, but I am going to watch you lot get pissed.
- That still counts.
- One, two, three.
Wey! So, that's where it started for me, the idea that drink is everything on a Friday night.
And now, I can't be in this kind of environment sober.
I'm always at my most charming, fun and likeable when I've had a drink.
That teenage night was a lot like this one.
Booze, booze everywhere, but not a drop to drink.
Are you going to ask one of them, Craggy? Ask this guy coming down now.
Try him, try him.
You can ask him, you're the confident one.
Excuse me.
Will you go into the shop and get us some booze, please? It's not for me.
It's for my grandad.
He's broken his hip.
I mean, he's 75.
He can't really get out and that.
He just wants a drink on a Friday night.
Yeah, all right.
What does he want? 12 Bottle of WKD.
Blue, please.
Nice try.
For fuck's sake.
- Here.
- Do you know who we should ask? - Who? Old Larry Metcalf.
Who the hell is old Larry Metcalf? Larry.
You know Larry.
He's that bloke who'll buy anyone booze.
He don't give two fucks how old you are.
And he only lives round the corner.
Just cos he buys booze for kids don't make him a paedo.
It's a slippery slope, though, innit? I've got a better idea.
Did you get served? Does it look like it? Thought you might have stashed it in them clown pockets that you've got.
This is my dead uncle's suit, you little prick.
- What did he dies of, being fucking huge? - No.
He slipped and cracked his head in the shower.
Didn't feel a thing, apparently.
That's how I want to go.
Oh, shit.
Look.
Come on, let's go.
Let's be gone, boys.
Ralph.
Come on now.
Nah, fuck that.
Now then, Ralph.
Will you buy us some booze? You what? Will you buy us some booze? What's just happened there, Tinhead? - Ralph just asked you to buy him booze, Rupert.
- What? Ralph, who got battered a couple of weeks back for being a mouthy little prick and not knowing his place? You're asking me, Whitey's mate, to buy him some booze? - Yeah, blagshead, that? - How do you feel about that, Tinhead? - I don't know.
How do you feel about it, Rupert? - I think it's funny.
I think it's real funny.
I think it's proper funny.
Ha-ha-ha! Cheeky little prick, asking me to buy you booze.
Cheeky.
Takes some real stones.
Yeah, let's have a look at that shiner.
- That's a beauty that, lad.
Look at that, Tinhead.
- Oh, it's a proper nice one that.
Yeah, it's gorgeous, innit? All the yellows and blues and that.
- Why does it do that, Tinhead? - It's due to the breakdown of haemoglobin.
You just know shit like that, Tinhead, you know, it's mad.
Right, now then, boys.
Hey, Craggy.
Well done for making an effort to look smart on Friday night, mate.
Like a proper little mogul and that, don't he? - Don't he look like a mogul, Tinhead? - Exactly like a mogul.
Yeah, a proper mogul man.
- Right, so you want us to buy some drinks, yeah? - Yeah.
- Yeah, if you will.
All right.
What you want then? - WKD.
- Cider.
- Fanta Lemon.
Tell you what? I'll take your money and I'll pick for you, lads, all right? Fucking hell, I feel like the guy out of Oliver Twist, - all the orphans.
- Fagan.
- Fagan.
I feel like Fagan, to be honest, Tinhead.
Come on, mate.
Let's get you a drink.
- Thank you.
- Get off.
They're for me and Tinhead.
We got this for you.
Green Danger cider? What's this? Cider is fermented from apples.
Yeah, I know.
It's just not what we wanted.
We don't always get what you want, do you, Ralph? So, did you get that with our money? Craggy, look.
Such a little mogul, aren't you? You're always talking about money.
So, what then, boys? Are you all big men now, yeah? Getting pissed up and that, yeah? How's about you come get blinder with us in Gibbs Woods tonight? Erm, will Whitey be there? Like, he's been away for a bit, all right.
Won't be seeing you around this town for a bit.
- Where's he gone? - I can't tell you.
Whitey moved to Blackpool to do a hotel catering course.
Right.
So then, boys.
Get in't car, and erm, squeeze in't boot.
I should have gone home.
Why did I come to the pub? It's a stone-cold piss-up up and I'm the only one who is sober.
Except for Mikey Potts, who doesn't drink at all and is the happiest person I know.
I like a bit of water.
That's all I need.
- Freak.
- I'm having a baby! What? Someone's having a baby? Oh, yeah.
I guess that does make sense as we are all over 30 now.
Oh, man.
Here comes the champagne.
I don't even like champagne that much anyway.
Shouldn't be too difficult to say no to them.
- Mate, can I get you a pint? - Oh, no.
Wait! Yes.
Yeah.
- All right.
- Cheers, mate.
We joined Rupert, Tinhead and their gang in the woods, which was really just a small thicket full of litter at the back of the park, the kind of place that serves mainly as scenery for adults driving past, which you're not really supposed to go into.
Oh, shit.
Rachel's here.
Hey, how's my hair looking? It's, like, gelled flat down and plastered in place with weird, greasy flicking bits down on your forehead.
Oh, good.
- So, who wants some cider, then? - I will.
Do the honours.
It's reallynice, that, it's well smooth.
- Give it here.
- Goes down like a treat.
The vibe here was very intimidating.
Had we been brought to the woods just to make Rupert and Co feel bigger and harder and funnier and generally better about themselves? Should we go over there, boys? Anyone want a beer or what? Let me just have another sip of that.
But then a strange thing happened.
The cider hit us like a losers' elixir and we were scared, embarrassed, self-conscious no more.
Rupert! You robbing bastard! You kept his change, didn't you, you cheeky twat? I've knocked your drink over.
Sorry! Are you going to share that? Can I have some of that? We talked of common interests.
What's your favourite wall to sit on in town? Offy wall.
Yes, mate! I love it! Beautiful wall, that, innit? This was good, simple fun and bonding.
It was like bass lines, yeah? - Yeah.
- Yeah.
This is a sick wobbler! Wobbler, mate! Wobbler! But the cider and the situation were making some things more complicated.
- Got owt you want to say to me? - I dunno! Are you all right? Yeah, I'm all right.
How's your shiner? It's all right.
Named it after you.
What's that supposed to mean? Oh, nowt, no.
It were just a joke.
There ain't no jokes in the game we play, Ralph.
- Soz, I were just trying - Look, Ralph.
You can't just walk back into my life with a beautiful new hairstyle and expect me to forgive you.
I'm still fucking pissed off, to be honest.
- Why? - You know full well why.
- I don't.
Well, come back to me when you do know.
For fuck's sake.
Rachel and a few others left and suddenly the mood felt darker.
Have yous lot finished all that cider, yeah? - Yeah.
- All of it? Wow.
Want some vodka, then, yeah? Yeah.
Go on, then, big man.
Have some.
Get it down ya.
Go on, then, Will Maggot, your turn.
What? Get it down.
Go on, then, Craggy.
Go on, keep going, keep going.
You not want some, Addy? No, no, I'm good, cheers.
I've had ice pops so I'm all right.
Is that cos you're a fucking mozzie, yeah? Is it? Hey, bang out of order, that, Rupert.
Right, I'm messing with him.
Yeah, he knows I'm messing him, don't you? You know I'm messing with you, Addy? Don't you? No, it's cos I'm I only drink curry-flavoured vodka, Rupert.
You see? He knows how to have a laugh, this lad! Yeah, he knows it's only banter! Don't you, Addy? He knows it! Ha-ha! That was a good one.
That was a good one, that, Addy.
Even at this age, I knew abuse masquerading as banter when I saw it, which is why I went over there and put an arm around Addy.
Fuck's sake.
Why did I say yes to the pint? I'm already feeling bad about it, but when I'm having the pint, I'll feel good, but then afterwards, I'll feel bad.
It's a catch-22.
Maybe that's not a catch-22.
I don't know, I can't think properly in here.
I mean, look at it! It's the pigs! - There you go, mate! - Oh, cheers, man.
- I've actually got to go.
- What about the? I'll Monzo you for it.
- I don't have Monzo.
- Neither do I.
What was I even doing here? It's too loud to talk to anyone.
These nights always just end up with a colossal dent in your bank balance, a raging hangover and sometimes a self-esteem crisis after you've embarrassed yourself in a way that you now can't even remember the details of.
NB, I was completely battered by this point.
So what follows is an approximation of a memory, really, rather than a totally reliable one.
That was fucking sick, mate.
Tomorrow It's just going to be back to normal fucking life, innit? You know what, Craggy, mate? Tomorrow is not what we are in.
We are That was fucking - You're my mate.
- All right, lad.
- You're my mate.
- All right, lad.
No, but seriously, though, I fucking I love you lot.
Sometimes I don't think you know it cos you don't think I'm one of the lads, you think I'm a fucking geek or whatever.
Oh, no, we love you for it, man.
We love you for it.
Eh, Ralph, you love Rachel, right? Yeah.
- She loves you too, mate.
- No, she doesn't.
Why would she have such a massive fucking go at me today? She did.
Cos she loves ya! I agree with that.
Are you all right, Addy? To be honest, I was a bit fucking upset about what happened earlier.
I appreciate you lot trying to help and that, but It's not fucking on, man.
I didn't choose to move to this town.
My dad made us come here for his job so we can have more money and a better life and that, but Nights like tonight make me wish I was still in Dewsbury.
It was hard to know what to say to this, but I'd like to think I managed something to offer Addy some solace.
Addy, what happened tonight was completely not on.
I'm sorry that you have to experience this idiotic and intolerant behaviour.
This is a society that for the most part is good and tolerant.
But, yes, those that are bigoted and intolerant manage to make their voices loudest.
OK.
I think I might have slightly romanticised this memory in my own favour.
And this is only going to get worse in a few years - after the global financial crisis - OK.
Yeah.
Total fabrication.
I guess Addy was left to find his own solace.
It's all right, lads.
I'm glad you guys had a good night, anyway.
Come 'ere! I suppose Addy was right.
Being hammered allowed us to open up and share with each other, and this established a pattern of behaviour I've repeated every weekend for 15 years in search of adventure and confidence and connection.
But there must be other ways to connect with people on a Friday night.
Here we are.
Here we have the boys, your new boys, your new friends, James.
Give him a big hug, James.
It's in his hatch.
Well, it's almost midnight.
And in just under a minute, I will have completed a month without drinking.
Wow! It's been a really interesting experiment.
I've learned so much about myself, about life, about our culture.
And you know what? I'm really glad that I did it.
I feel fresh.
I feel healthy, I feel ready for life revived and renewed and refreshed and because um Smashed it.
Well earned.