Are we losing British eccentricity? I am in Cornwall staying in a very old pub where nothing works, customers help themselves to drinks and no one seems to pay. If you ask what time dinner is the landlord replies 'whenever you want '. If you ask what is on the menu he says 'whatever you want '.
The same four customers who were propping up the bar 2 years ago are still the only customers. A woman came in and started canoodling with one of the customers. 'Are they an item?' my sister asked innocently. 'He's gay' said a customer as he popped behind the bar to help himself to another pint of beer. The woman started to discuss going away for a long weekend in a 6 berth caravan. The landlord asked the gay man if he would be taking his mother, with whom he lives apparently. My sister and I were becoming more and more bemused and confused. From time to time a customer would go ouside to smoke a cigarette but after a few pints that went by the board and anyway it was raining.
Suddenly the woman appeared with our dinner. Had she turned into a waitress? A bottle of wine appeared on the bar and everyone helped themselves to a glass. No money had changed hands all evening. My sister asked how much she owed and was told to keep it simple and hand over a brown note. Half an hour later when I asked how much I owed he said I will think about it and tell you tomorrow. The woman, now barely able to stand, announced that she was leaving. She's not driving is she, I asked. Yes she was! 5 minutes later she was back. She couldn't remember how to reverse. Take her home said the landlord to the gay man, who had downed enough liquor to fill a bath, and they left hand in hand.
The same four customers who were propping up the bar 2 years ago are still the only customers. A woman came in and started canoodling with one of the customers. 'Are they an item?' my sister asked innocently. 'He's gay' said a customer as he popped behind the bar to help himself to another pint of beer. The woman started to discuss going away for a long weekend in a 6 berth caravan. The landlord asked the gay man if he would be taking his mother, with whom he lives apparently. My sister and I were becoming more and more bemused and confused. From time to time a customer would go ouside to smoke a cigarette but after a few pints that went by the board and anyway it was raining.
Suddenly the woman appeared with our dinner. Had she turned into a waitress? A bottle of wine appeared on the bar and everyone helped themselves to a glass. No money had changed hands all evening. My sister asked how much she owed and was told to keep it simple and hand over a brown note. Half an hour later when I asked how much I owed he said I will think about it and tell you tomorrow. The woman, now barely able to stand, announced that she was leaving. She's not driving is she, I asked. Yes she was! 5 minutes later she was back. She couldn't remember how to reverse. Take her home said the landlord to the gay man, who had downed enough liquor to fill a bath, and they left hand in hand.
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