Last night, I discovered a new pub, the Pot Still, which after just one visit has instantly become one of my favourites. It’s quiet, comfortable, relaxed, and packed from floor to ceiling with an amazing array of whiskies. It’s in the city centre, but I’ll not hold that against it.
I was meeting Alex, the blogger known as m0ok, for a couple of drinks, who along with Mrs m0ok have been coming along to St Silas recently and I have very much enjoyed meeting them and reading their blogs. I’d only met Alex once, though, and so it was nice to properly catch up.
Transport nearly conspired against us at the start of the evening – Alex texted to say that his train was running late, and I replied, reporting that there were also delays on the subway. Perhaps something serious was wrong.
“Maybe the rapture happened“, Alex texted, once I had come out of the underground. “Bugger. I guess we weren’t proper Christians after all”
I arrived at the pub, settled down with a nice pint of 80/-, and tapped out a response:
“We’re sorry, Simon can’t reply. He’s with Us now.”
But Alex arrived just as I was about to send. Damn.
We had a grand old chat about all sorts, but I’ve just realised there wasn’t a single mention of pants.