Pub punch up
Up again to the smoke. Better day today, and in the afternoon, I presented the ideas Andy and I had come up with. Our ideas were spread out on the floor, as we'd been working in a room with no table, as the agency is being refurbished.
Home at a reasonable time. Finished The Girl Who Played With Fire, on the train. Once back in Brighton, Anton and I slipped out for a late feed in the new Vietnamese place, which was fairly good, and then for a cheeky beer in the Nordic bar, which was full of people singing happy birthday in what may have been Finnish. From here we caught a late cab to the Eddy and were enjoyably discussed our footballing allegiance to North Korea when a row erupted between the barman and a drunk punter. The barman was of the opinion that the punter was a prick, while the punter was loudly sharing his opinion that the barman was a c-word.
Suddenly they were outside sorting it out. The friendly woman who runs the place rather caught up in it too, so without thinking I went outside and found the two combatants grappling on the tarmac. I managed to pull them apart before they did any damage to each other, and propelled the barman back into the pub, as the other guy slunk away into the night wearing a particularly infuriating face.
I rejoined Anton and attended to my drink, when the barman began to berate me for having stopped him, because he had hit the lady manager outside. Lady manager quietly crying at this point. Another guy in the pub got the wrong end of the stick and, glancing at me, requested a bottle. I thought things were about to get rather lively again at this point, but it all calmed down and the barman shook my hand and Anton and I were able to resume our conversation about North Korea unmolested.
Despite this, an excellent and rather overdue evening out with Anton. I still like The Eddy.
Up again to the smoke. Better day today, and in the afternoon, I presented the ideas Andy and I had come up with. Our ideas were spread out on the floor, as we'd been working in a room with no table, as the agency is being refurbished.
Home at a reasonable time. Finished The Girl Who Played With Fire, on the train. Once back in Brighton, Anton and I slipped out for a late feed in the new Vietnamese place, which was fairly good, and then for a cheeky beer in the Nordic bar, which was full of people singing happy birthday in what may have been Finnish. From here we caught a late cab to the Eddy and were enjoyably discussed our footballing allegiance to North Korea when a row erupted between the barman and a drunk punter. The barman was of the opinion that the punter was a prick, while the punter was loudly sharing his opinion that the barman was a c-word.
Suddenly they were outside sorting it out. The friendly woman who runs the place rather caught up in it too, so without thinking I went outside and found the two combatants grappling on the tarmac. I managed to pull them apart before they did any damage to each other, and propelled the barman back into the pub, as the other guy slunk away into the night wearing a particularly infuriating face.
I rejoined Anton and attended to my drink, when the barman began to berate me for having stopped him, because he had hit the lady manager outside. Lady manager quietly crying at this point. Another guy in the pub got the wrong end of the stick and, glancing at me, requested a bottle. I thought things were about to get rather lively again at this point, but it all calmed down and the barman shook my hand and Anton and I were able to resume our conversation about North Korea unmolested.
Despite this, an excellent and rather overdue evening out with Anton. I still like The Eddy.
Below view from the pitch room.
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