In this pub, Aaron announces, “I’ve borrowed Alfie’s laptop. We can use it to edit our video for the advert.”

Martin suggests that Aaron’s proposal should be raised at a meeting of the Witch Star Project’s management committee. To which Aaron replies that this (right here and right now) is a meeting of the project’s management committee. But then Martin disagrees. He says meetings have to be formally convened, and their minutes need to be recorded.

In the following argument, Aaron indicates that he’s recording everything Martin’s saying on his iPhone – and that this should be a good enough record for anyone’s purposes. But Martin says he doesn’t care about Aaron’s iPhone. And he continues to insist, “We need to have a proper meeting. We haven’t had a proper meeting since June. So nothing’s getting done. It’s just the same old same-old sitting around and doing nothing.”

But Aaron strongly disagrees. “Well,” he says, “That’s just plain mad, Martin: If you think us sitting around having meetings in your room’s achieving something. Well it isn’t. And the reason, Martin … the reason no one comes to any more of your boring, boring meetings is because no one’s interested. Do you understand, Martin? Siting in your room at the Lemon Tree all day’s boring. Well, I’m sorry, but … why can’t we have our meetings here in the pub?”

But Martin points, “Pubs are expensive. And we don’t have any money.”

So Aaron tells Martin, “That’s true. But neither can we afford gas to keep our rooms warm in the Lemon Tree. That’s why we’re in here – because it’s warmer in this pub. And I know what you’re about to say. How would we afford drinks if we’re staying in a pub all night? And, yes: I know: We all remember that night when we were sharing a bottle from the supermarket, and those bouncers in their black satin bomber jackets came over and told us to leave. But that was the Abattoir Arms. And we had Triple A with us. And he was trying to sell them drugs. But then: Then we went to the Green Dragon. Remember? And, in the Green Dragon, they were having an Open Mic night. And they were giving drinks to anyone who’d get up and sing. So Alfie played someone’s guitar; and Wendy sang her song; and we all played those bongos and that giant tambourine, remember? And we had a lot  of fun … Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” says Martin, “I do remember that. And thank you for reminding me. I sometimes forget how much fun we had when Alfie was around.”

“So that’s the plan,” says Aaron, “We’ll start going out to Open Mic Nights. And – also – we could form a pub team … I mean: A Pub Quiz Team. And, you know, the prize for winning teams on Tuesdays at The Grey Horse is fifty quid, and … I think – that would easily be enough for a round or two of drinks.”

“If we won,” says Martin.

“Of course we’ll win,” says Aaron, “I’ve got an iPhone, remember?”

“So?”

“So: Ask me anything you like – and, if I can’t google the right answer in less than three minutes – I’ll buy you a drink. What d’ya say?”

“I’d say that’s cheating.”

“No it’s not,” says Aaron, “None of this is personal, Martin. It’s just business.”

 

And so, at this point, it’s agreed: From now on, all the Minutes of the Meetings of The Witch Star Project shall be written here – in a private internet journal, which means only those with a password (in other words: just the members of this project’s management committee) will be able to read them – on Alfie’s laptop.

“So,” Martin asks, “You’ll be able to put all our minutes from our previous meetings on here, as well? And no one’s going to be able to read them – except for us? Is that right?”

“That’s right,” Aaron replies, “I’ll put all your old minutes on here, tonight.”

And so this is where we’ll be: Right here on witchstar.wordpress.com