Crawley cont.

The man-mountain came up to the Singer/Guitarist and basically said that if we didn't play something "good" he would kill all three of us. His mate, whose birthday it was apparently(and was only slightly smaller than him) looked on fairly passively. At this point the singer tried to pacify him, telling him what a nice guy he was and patting him gently on the arm (he said it was like tapping cast iron) and generally trying to ease what was becoming a nasty situation. Allthe time this was happening the Landlord/lady couldn't care less and seemed to take no interest in what was going on in the pub at all, same as the rest of the punters. He went back to his chair after this threat and sat with the birthday boy necking more Stella. Mercifully our break came having tried to play a more "rocky" set and we went to the bar to talk to the management about what had happened. They just shrugged it off and carried on serving more Stella. We sat down and discussed how were going to get through the next 45 minutes unscathed. We took to stage again and started.By this time the band-baiting ogre looked very pissed and seemed less interested in us but we could take our eyes off him.He suddenly shouted out at me.I tried to ignore him but he kept on-"Oi, soft c*nt!" I didn't really feel like responding to this particular salutation so I didn't. Was he getting madder or more bored?