in vino veritas
9:36 pm Thursday, 26 April, 2007
First, and for the record, I have never slept with any barstaff*. Obviously this should be followed with some comment about not for lack of trying but I can’t recall ever really doing so. There was girl I worked with in a bar back in Dublin that I had such a crush on but that kinda fizzled out after a while.
Pint-Sized Ireland: In Search of the Perfect Guinness is a great book. I have been collecting copies of a similar book as presents for some people in the US before I leave. I was looking for more of that in Barnes and Noble in Georgetown when I came across this one. I figured it would do for one and that I’d have a read of it first. I just finished it in the pub this evening and it was pretty good. It’s one of the few recent books that does a good job capturing some of the spirit of Ireland.
So as I say, I was in the pub this evening. A good few months ago my friend Nick was over for work and crashed at mine for the weekend. We stupidly listened to Schro and hit a local club for the Saturday night. We were the youngest people in there by a long shot. It was, as best I could tell, an over 40s and twice divorced hook up spot. So we had some dinner and some drinks and we caught up and that was good but it was hardly a great night out.
However the food was pretty damn good and it’s quite closeby where I live here. So a couple of weeks later I stopped in and had dinner on the way home. Food was good, it was fine in the early evening and the bar staff were pretty nice. This became a habit and I’d stop in there once a week or so with a book or newspaper for a quiet dinner and a few pints. Ya know often enough to know the staff by name and to have them know what I want to eat and drink. It was pretty good.
Tonight I had what’s likely to be my last dinner in there and it kinda sunk in that I’m finishing up here when I paid my bill and said goodbye. With so many gone from the office and V leaving drinks not till this weekend there hasn’t really been anyone to say goodbye to yet. Have I ever mentioned that it’s odd over here?
One of my many leaving drinks in London was in a bar nearby work. It was, and I suspect still is, a shit hole. However it had exceedingly attractive bar staff, or so I was told. First it was Nick who started going there on a regular basis for the straight Polish boys he never had a chance with but liked to look it and then Rich took up the mantle with, the admittedly very cute but in a long term relationship, Karolina and so it took way too much of our money and our time for several years. Anyway quiet leaving drinks in there with Nick and Rich became less than quiet. While Rich left early on, we had hooked up with one of the previous barstaff and her sister. I was quite dunk that evening but and overwhelming memory remember is a sense of vague guilt when Rich walked back in around 11.30 after being somewhere with his girlfriend. I’m not sure why the guilt…okay I have an idea and Nick’s recollection seems to indicate the same reason but he was trying to avoid the advances of a young drunken Irish girl (the fool!!) and so is not a reputable witness and I choose to disregard his testimony!
Anyway the point is I guess I really am leaving. In just a little over a week I’ll be back to heading to Hammersmith five days a week and seeing what that life brings for me now.
Now where is that dunk thread?
*barstaff of course being the politically incorrect term for barmaids.
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