Black Eye Friday...

....when I lived in the city centre, I hated the Friday evening before Christmas. Hoards of part-time or supermarket plonk drinkers would pour out of their offices full of fake festive cheer and descend on city centre pubs, including my local, the Cask & Barrel. They'd get (or arrive) pissed, buy drinks individually without any understanding of the efficiency of rounds, pay with bank cards (back when it took 5mins to process an electronic payment) and create a general nuisance for regulars and hard-pressed bar staff.  Fortunately, our village local in the new place has none of these issues, and I enjoyed a pint of locally brewed pale ale in the company of people who know how to behave in a pub. <contended sigh> 

Earlier, Nancy arrived home, having stayed over at Owen's flat last night due to a missed train (so unplanned), did a quick change and then hitched a lift to the station again to join her oldest friend for a festive catch-up. Left to my own devices, I fed the cat, ate some leftovers from the fridge for tea and wandered down to the pub to test the Black Eye Friday atmosphere.