Little old man funny little old man
Last week I went on a pub-crawl of Bedminster (in Bristol) sampling the delights of such hostelries as the White Hart and the Little Grosvenor. I crossed the river and found myself in the Velindra which had recently undergone a renovation and smelt of fresh paint; but it was OK, not too ghoosked up, with nice tasteful decor all aquamarine and gold.

I was on my own (waah waah fuck off, I love my own company... fortunately) but the pub was packed so I found myself squashed in at the end of a table next to this funny little old man.

He looked a bit like that bald guy at the beginning of Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, but instead of dusty rags he wore quite a sharp pinstripe suit, white shirt and red regimental-looking tie. He was very short - about 4 foot nowt - and I'm over 6 foot - and he looked fearfully up at me as I sat next to him, but soon relaxed as I smiled down at him and patted him on his bald bonce.

He then took quite a shine to me and kept on giggling like a little girl and grabbing my arm. His mates - I presume they were - took little notice of him but I caught a few of them smiling and nudging each other and glancing in my direction.

I tried to strike up conversation with the little old bald pinstripe-suited man but I could make head nor tail of him; he spoke in a gabbling high-pitched patter like Crazy Frog only more croaky and maroon sounding.

So I began to tell him about me and the job I'm doing at the moment, the projects I am working on, my cat, and where I was planning to spend Christmas. He listened intently to all this, interjecting with hoots and gibberings and grabbing my arm. I began to warm to the little feller, I rarely encountered such an attentive and appreciative audience.

Before long though the six pints I'd quaffed meant a visit to the bogs and so I excused myself. As I wazzed I looked round the interior of the gents bogs appreciatively, they'd done a good job - pale blue walls, nice new sinks with taps, toilets with seats, mirrors etc. As I died my hands I noticed that on one they had put a rectangular mosaic design of tiny blue and green tiles. The moment I saw this I stopped in my tracks. I knew I'd seen this somewhere before - but where?

I walked up to it. I reached out and touched the tiles - and the shock went right through my body, from the soles of my feet up to my balls and then THWACK! to the top of my head - an orgasmic shockwave. Tears filled my eyes so I closed them and touched the mosaic again... and in my mind... I saw... there was something I couldn't quite see... and then I realised I was muttering one word, over and over again: 'Kastria... Kastria... Kastria...'

I stepped back from the mosaic and staggered over to the sink. I fumbled with the taps and splashed water over my face. Recovering myself, I went back into the bar only to find that my little bald old friend had gone.

Oh well. I drank up and then tried to get into the Ostrich but it was packed with fucking cunts, so I went up to the Golden Guinea.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Mon 10 Dec 2012, 21:06, 2 replies)

ostrich? nice pub

( zulu eh?, Mon 10 Dec 2012, 22:15, closed)

It's not a sink
It's a basin.
(Bob the Builder killed Captain Alex, Wed 12 Dec 2012, 20:17, closed)