Typical late autumn Friday, skip lunch to leave a half hour early and chase one of the dwindling number of pub stops near the trams or trains which I haven’t previously haunted. On this occasion it was the Gate Inn, a fairly utilitarian bar consisting of a bar, tele tuned to a game show with mindlessly easy questions, and a landlord vaping at one of the 8 or 9 tables.
The couple there when I arrived left before I got my beer (a mild Spanish lager) and were replaced by a bloke who wandered in and sat with the landlord for a few minutes before I guy came in selling some boxes of dishwasher tablets and a bottle each of Bailey’s and Jack Daniels for £25. The carry bag they came in went with the items.
Yeah, I’d go back.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 