Emergency impromptu pub trip!
But what's this - a singularity of underage barbloke, nervously taking his time with a throng of peoples getting more parched by the second...
And hold on - I've taxi's up here at great expense to imbibe in intoxicating inebriating beverages free of charge, and I just remembereds that prized pints cannot be taken on a Tuesday!
And here come mah bitches - shall we stay, or should we go? We'll blag it!
Gets to the bar... and eventually gets served.
Oh, they've lost the records of gratis quaffage!
Sit and wait...
...and wait...
...and wait...
Oh, now there's excitement! A brewing in the brewery of fisticuffs over calcified cheese upon unsliceable steak! More consternation as other tables fodder takes a turn for the worse and much grumbings begin!
Ah - a secondary barbloke has appeared to appease the petulant porker whilst the barboy quells a family of disgruntled feasters. Much shoutage and actual finger wagging in the face! Demands of refunds ensue!
And we're still waiting to see if we can blag our free tankards of mead on a forbidden Tuesday!
Eventually, without resorting to implementing the Battle Royale Act, sorry - Hunger Games, the ravenous rebellion is quashed, and there is much stropping off.
Although I've preferred a bit more stripping off if the BarBabe was on duty (and hadn't apparently quit due to being leered at by The Xym)
And yay! We eventually gets a throatal drenching, whilst engaging in telephonic illustrative shennanigans.
And a final resolution to return for one last challenge before Rammstein Boy leaves to serve intoxicated Pretties in Corfu.
Which means we might get the BarBabe back! (although vowing that next week is deffo another Last Visit to the short-staffed, slow-paced, devoid of atmosphere venue somewhat voids any prospect of ogling up The Barbabe)
