Floorboy

This is an idea for a story that children's author Michael Wagner (checkout the Undys family if you have boys 7 to 9 years) has inspired me to write after I met with him at the Campbelltown library. I am considering entering it into the 2016 Wakefield Press unpublished manuscripts competition. Please tell me what you think...

Floor Boy

Tony nursed his half drunk glass of beer, listening to the unending tune of the poker machines. It was getting cool in the front bar of the Leigh's hotel, a bit after seven-thirty in the early weeks of June. An open fire roared in the dining room, more beer and a schnitzel tea beckoning the young man to return warmth to his bones. The beer was consumed in one gulp and Tony handed the empty glass back.
"Another?" asked the guy behind the bar, to which Tony shook his head and patted his stomach.
The barman nodded and turned his attention to the next drinker, Tony was already forgotten.

The dining area was half full, the tables nearest to the fire place taken up by families. Tony ordered another glass of pale ale and a schnitzel, beef with parmigiana sauce, taking his glass over to a table for two. The constant sound of poker machines could still be heard over the hubbub of the diners and the crying of toddlers hungry for their tea. Quietly Tony sipped, enjoying his drink while he waited for his own meal. From where he sat the young man could see the salad bar.
'Not tonight,' he thought to himself, 'Crispy hot chips and a shnitty will do me nicely.'
The food soon arrived, a flattened and crumbed piece of veal that spilled over both edges of the plate. That was one of the many things that Tony loved about Leigh's, the meals were large but not too costly.

With five beers under his belt, a great meal devoured and a final scotch Tony stumbled out onto Railway terrace. His usual choice then was to head up Sixth street and onto Bridge street to try his luck at the Bridgeport. A few of the girls behind the bar therEwingew him and sometimes he could sweet talk cheaper drinks from them, not very often though and not that night. Instead the young man headed down the dim dark street ironically named Railway towards the train station. Just before he got there he took a left up Second street. His dad's place was the third house along and the key was under the mat. As the Town Hall clock chimed that it was eleven o'clock Tony flopped onto the couch in the lounge and pulled a blanket over him.
"That you, Tony!" called out the voice of his mum.
"Yeah mum!" Tony called back.
"Night then," said mum and soon there came the sound of soft snores.
'No more drinks for me tonight,' thought Tony.
The young man had an early morning planned.
Tomorrow he started a new job at T and R, the local meat works.
Tomorrow was Tony's first day as floor boy.