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Lager for Rosie

  Thu 22nd February 2024

Mel suggests getting the bus out to a pub she remembers, in a small village near Bath. We time it well as the locals are coming in after work. It's a cosy place, the bar in a low-ceilinged one room with a coal fire. Mel meets someone working on the house next door, which for decades has been occupied by a couple she knows. I feel local by proxy and start to unwind; I go to stand in front of the fire.

The same man points to my cast and asks me what I've done. I explain the broken wrist and fractured elbow, before throwing any advantage away.

"It's great," I say, "I'm on more or less full pay whilst I sit on my back side. I'm going to milk it."

There's a pause. "I'm not sure I hold with that attitude myself."

In the concentrated atmosphere, and surrounded mainly by self-employed men, it feels a bigger faux pas than it would in Bristol.

Whilst we were in Tenerife I became interested in the disputed territory you'd hit if you sailed East by South from Tenerife's southern tip.

Back home, ignoring the slight nag in my head that my girlfriend might not be interested in Pre-Modern West African History, I say "there's a suggestion that the Phoenicians might have been the first non-natives to reach Western Sahara."

She looked at me quizzically for a second, then said "where's Westminster Harbour?"

In the corner shop a woman cradling four bottles of cider clatters in with the bustling movements of the unhinged. She apologises for interrupting (but continues anyway), and starts on one of those voluble monologues that I've witnessed many times in there.

"I want to change these, change them you see, he wants a strong lager, not cider, no, he wants a strong lager, so can I change these? Some of them won't let you."

The unworried shopkeeper tells her to get four of something else, presumably a strong lager. As she show signs of leaving, she concludes "...and I'll think you'll find I'm sixty-five tomorrow!"



Comment from: 63mago [Visitor]

These Phoenicians were everywhere ! Brought the alphabeth, tah ! Went downhill from there. They should have stuck to Greek wine, powerful incense (roter Libanese), and Aegyptian brew.

Fri 1st March 2024 @ 18:26 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Yes, they weren’t ones for a quiet night in with a couple of drinks.

Mon 4th March 2024 @ 12:59 Reply to this comment
Comment from: Kono [Visitor]

Oh the grinders of the world, the one’s who think endlessly toiling away make them productive members of society… granted if they’re in the trades that may be true, or maybe if a doctor or most especially a teacher but here in the L’america it’s mainly service and non-sense when it comes to the “grind", it’s a suckers game… as the great Abe Lincoln once said, I’d much rather be in the pub… that’s where the problems get solved… or something like that… i’m a work to live not live to work sorta guy… those that view it the other way around? ain’t my problem… lol! i’d be doing the exact same thing as you my friend… if i ever get towards the end of the Wilderness Years you’ll see… ;)

Wed 13th March 2024 @ 12:41 Reply to this comment
Comment from: monkeyman [Visitor]

Come in, Looby, your month is up.

Mon 25th March 2024 @ 20:50 Reply to this comment
Comment from: [Member]

Belatedly…it’s there!

Wed 3rd April 2024 @ 13:30 Reply to this comment
Comment from: monkeyman [Visitor]


Fri 5th April 2024 @ 22:20 You are currently replying to this comment

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looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person

M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

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WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.

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