We went to the pub this evening, our usual night for wandering down – it only takes us five minutes. There had been a music event on this afternoon, the last ever gig of a very good local band. We’d popped down to hear them, came home for an umbrella when it started to rain and then went back.
Now, this evening, all was quiet in the car park where the gig had happened, but inside it was busier than usual, left-overs from the fun afternoon. We chatted to some friends then took our drink through to the area which is between the two bars (traditionally the public and the saloon or lounge) in what in our pub is called ‘the cross benches’. There was a chap we recognised at the bar with wife and two doges, one of which was very yappy and snappy, a friend with her silent little dog, maybe intimidated by yapper-snapper, and Terry who used to be in a band with my husband… and plenty of other people in various stages of cheerful intoxication. The cheerful Canadian barman Tom served us, and we left him being chatted up by two rather inebriated but funny ladies.
At home we are both really busy with our ‘stuff’, me writing, my husband painting, drawing, practising his drums, so it’s lovely to come down to the pub and just chat to each other.
So topics tonight, which I can remember –
- the character development in my books
- rock and roll
- Brandon Flowers
- someone I used to work with who now ignores me
- pouring beer
- dogs in pubs
- careers advice in school and what advice my husband received – ‘If you have anything at all about you, go into the army, if you haven’t go into the Church of England’
- the Proclaimers and their hits and their enduring appeal
- the rather nice champagne I bought for son’s girlfriend’s birthday
- being a session musician – as my husband has
- our children
- Brighton and the gay scene
- how to cook fish fingers
- the Dolphin barmen
- people we know called Ferrari
- London and visiting London
- the strange shape of a lady at the bar
- how annoying it is for taxi drivers when they turn up and their fair has disappeared
- the Fallen Apples last ever gig – an excellent local band who played in the pub this afternoon
- The Moor: Lives, Landscape by William Atkins
- dogs rather less endearing habits
… and much, much more which the ProclaimI can’t now recall! That’s the great thing about pubs, such a lot of chat!