Three lads in the pub. Brighton boys. They all work in bookies shops. They talk about gambling, sharing stories of foolish punters. They boast about how much money they make from “idiots.”
Soon they’re talking about Betfair, how successful and profitable it is, and how much they admire the founder Andrew Brown (sic). “What a clever bastard, a billionaire just ‘cos he had a simple idea. He lives in the Cotswolds.”
Time passes and pints of Stella are sunk. They’re talking about the bets they’ve made and lost online
“I lost two grand last week,” one says. “When you’re betting online it doesn’t seem real. The cash just comes out of your bank account. You never see the money. It’s not like going to the bookies.”
*An occasional sketch of things I see and hear around the City by the Sea.