A drunken wasp, surely, says Russ. Who knows.
Before I start, the exciting news that my preview copy* of the new GBG (due for publication in October) arrived today via Ocado;
Unless you’re one of my Patronised readers I’m afraid it’s embargoed, but I may dripfeed a few highlights. All I’ll say now is, they’ll be dancing in the streets of Kirkapol tonight.
Back to Dorset. My next tick, another top plant tip and this time a proper one, came at the pub where I was a bit of a prat.
Perhaps if I don’t name it we’ll be able to move on; it certainly wasn’t their fault.
Anyway, mystery pub certainly had the social distancing barriers out. Or perhaps it’s art.
Whatever, I wasn’t allowed in “just for a drink“. But the outside tables looked more lively anyway. Some people even looked like they were enjoying themselves.
The nice waitress/barmaid came across and asked me what I wanted. How would I know?
She reeled off a list of homebrew and I just said “The first one please“. I really did.
A half appeared and she scuttled off to attend to gentlefolk before I could pay her in coppers.
It wasn’t much cop, typical Devon 2.5 stuff, and the dahlias got the windfall.
A family complained about chips, a drunk Gary Glitter lookalike (top) said “Can I interest you in a drunk wasp?”
Serves you right for drinking Bud, I thought, but I knew GG would be the highlight of my ten minute visit.
Well, ten minutes and five more trying to pay. I walked to the bar, brandishing two pound coins.
“You can’t come to the bar Sir” said a distressed landlord. “it’s only table service.
“I just wanted to pay” I said, but we all know I wanted a picture of gentlefolk arguing over the bill, don’t we?
As I said yesterday, I was being a prat. Best just fess up.
Only sent to select members I believe.