You're only barred if you remember where from
This only happened last Saturday. I was staggering home from a works leaving do in some god-forsaken area of Saaarf London (Camberwell, to be exact)and trying to find a bus stop.

Already very drunk, I decided that some more beers would lubricate the journey nicely. It was about 2am & I popped into a Costcutter. Only one guy behind the till & no shutters over the booze.

Stepped smartly to the counter with a four-pack of Stella but the guy told me he couldn't serve me this late. I pleaded, tried the matey approach, offered him the cash so he could ring it up in the morning (or pocket it himself, should he desire). No joy. This guy was a rock.

So I waited until he started serving another customer & strolled out with a box of 12 beers under my arm.

He followed me for about 50 yards down the street & told me in no uncertain terms that I was barred & should never darken his doors again.

Not sure if the fact I haven't got a clue where this shop is located makes it easier or more difficult to avoid it. I have visions of going into a shop whilst sober & suited for work & being chased out by a shopkeeper with a better memory for faces.

Don't think it's the length I need apologise for, is it?
( four styx, Tue 5 Sep 2006, 18:49, Reply)