Akward, he says, akward. Drinking lager beer feels akward.
He usually would drink a somehow stronger beer.
Akward it is to have that lager in front of him.
Brands died, he says, looking at the lager in front of him.
He read it in a newspaper. Don't you read newspaper, he asks.
No, I don't, I say. Newspapers these days shit teenage talk.
Brands had a wife, he says, he had kids, he had a dog.
That's as good as any other reason, I say.
To his taste drinking a lager beer feels as akward as getting to suicide.