Wake up and smell the beer

Wake up and smell the beer
Originally uploaded by joellaflickr.

The smoking ban had been in force for six days before I went to the pub. I can't believe it took me so long. We were up in Lancs this weekend, and dropped into the Queens for last orders on Saturday night. I worked in the Queens many years ago, and it was scruffy, smoky, a bit druggy, a bit scary, and very, very loud. I loved it, but I was most of those things myself back then.

Two weeks ago, I would have said that it was still noisy and still smoky, but otherwise unrecognisable (about 10 years ago it had its guts ripped out, its heart covered in tasteful hardwearing fabric, and its soul laminated). Now it's just noisy.

It's weird. Good weird -- *very* good weird -- but weird nonetheless.

Woke up on Sunday and went out to check that it was still true. We met up with A Free Man in Preston and Girl on a Train in a pub which has great beer but which used to be like sitting in the bottom of an ashtray. Wow, said M, when we walked through the door, it smells like beer in here.

And indeed it did. We weren't worried it wouldn't last, so we stayed in there for a good three hours just to make sure. When we emerged, it was the only thing we *were* sure of. But in a good way.

I felt a bit ropey later. I blame it on the Moonlight.

joella