Especially for Paul Mudge of Stafford, here’s the evidence that Sam Smith’s Sheffield star is back with a bang.
Mrs RM and I tipped up at 10.42pm, the latest I’ve been in a pub for a while. No sense of “You’re a bit close to last orders” like I get in some pubs at 10.30.
Unmistakable low-key Sam’s exterior, unmistakable Sam’s bar.
A couple of blokes in the left-hand room discussing politics; a dozen blokes congregating at the right-hand bar discussing life. Or the Blades, to you and me.
Mrs RM went left.
It sparkles, it really does. Literally; the landlord was scrubbing the tables ferociously at 11.05.
The OBB looked magnificent too.
“Glad to see you back open” I said. And I was.
“Really good OBB” And it was. NBSS 3.5.
Mrs RM had a double G & T, which was 2.5x dearer than my pint, but I forgive her.
Our drinking companions were onto “post-capitalist society” and the myth of choice.
“What have you had tonight then ?”
“3 pints of OBB”
“Why’d you need choice then ?”
In the other bar, the debate about “putting it in the onion bag” rumbled on.