Beer: Sharp's Doom Bar 4.0%
On the south coast/New Forest for work day out, which involves boating from Lymington to the IOW and back again, on Thursday 30th. Some go down the night before to sleep in local Premier Inns or the corporate day out organisers’ boat. I’m on a boat. Some go for a pre-arranged Italian meal on Wednesday night; I do a pub crawl on me tod.
The only GBG pubs are the Wetherspoons in town and The Monkey House which is a good twenty minute walk from the Marina. I pass the JDW and, wondering whether continuing the walk was justified, went into this pub on the way. I’d have stayed for a couple (and contemplated staying in the town centre) if the pub was better. My plan was to find a decent pub and enigmatically read Oscar Wilde’s essay on socialism… it wasn’t going to happen here.
Doom Bar was the only option. There were four regulars at the bar, the barman was regaling how, though he disliked “_____”, he loved working with her because she was so easy to bully… ordering her about, telling her what to do etc. Seemed a thoroughly unpleasant boast to me, but that’s the way things seem to be going – both in workplaces and politics these days. Anyway, the assembled clientele seemed amused enough with it. The bastards.
I supped up me beer and made a beeline to the Monkey House, listening to a podcast: The History of England Episode 209: (15th Century) Exploration.
On the south coast/New Forest for work day out, which involves boating from Lymington to the IOW and back again, on Thursday 30th. Some go down the night before to sleep in local Premier Inns or the corporate day out organisers’ boat. I’m on a boat. Some go for a pre-arranged Italian meal on Wednesday night; I do a pub crawl on me tod.
The only GBG pubs are the Wetherspoons in town and The Monkey House which is a good twenty minute walk from the Marina. I pass the JDW and, wondering whether continuing the walk was justified, went into this pub on the way. I’d have stayed for a couple (and contemplated staying in the town centre) if the pub was better. My plan was to find a decent pub and enigmatically read Oscar Wilde’s essay on socialism… it wasn’t going to happen here.
Doom Bar was the only option. There were four regulars at the bar, the barman was regaling how, though he disliked “_____”, he loved working with her because she was so easy to bully… ordering her about, telling her what to do etc. Seemed a thoroughly unpleasant boast to me, but that’s the way things seem to be going – both in workplaces and politics these days. Anyway, the assembled clientele seemed amused enough with it. The bastards.
I supped up me beer and made a beeline to the Monkey House, listening to a podcast: The History of England Episode 209: (15th Century) Exploration.
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