I
decided to go out for a few drinks with a Landlord at a pub that he used to own
called the Vine Inn. We parked his car at the bottom of the hill and crossed
the grass to the entrance of this standalone building. There wasn’t a soul in
sight. Inside we found the horseshoe bar which seemed to be stripped of its
counter and all the taps seemed to be embedded into the bar. We could hear
echoes from an adjacent dining room and someone came to meet us. We ordered two
pints of lager which were brought to us in tulip glasses on wooden tables. We
quickly decided that the new owners weren’t doing the best in managing the
place and arranged to meet some more people at the next pub. We head out through
the lobby which is much more interesting. There’s a black and white zigzag tile
pattern and lots of lounge furniture and tables to match. I encounter a couple
of work colleagues who have been in for some wine but are eager to follow us
on. I decide that we should park at my boss’s house which is near to the next pub.
We pull up on his extended driveway but we can’t find the pub or anyone around
that’s nearby.
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