Tales from a spontaneous pub visit

After ticking off most of my errands for the day, I made my way to the local supermarket to pick up something for dinner.

On the way, I decided to pop into the nearby pub for a quick pint. The pubs around here aren’t exactly anything to write home about, but this one tends to have a decent cask selection. Plus, being in the town centre, it attracts a certain kind of crowd that can be unintentionally entertaining.

Now I’m sat outside, sipping a cask ale from a Dutch brewery and soaking in the local colour.

The highlights, all courtesy of the same group of people:

Someone loudly asks, “You want a bomb?” I look up to see them pulling out a baggie, carefully crushing the contents on the table with a card, preparing MDMA “Rizla bombs” for themselves and a friend.

One of them, apparently running on zero sleep, is face-down in a pillow on the table. From their conversation, I gather they’ve got a shift later. Their friends are gently encouraging them to rest. Then the bar owner steps out and says, “Come on, I’ve made you a bed and pillow upstairs. Get some sleep—you’re behind the bar tonight. I can’t have you off—I’ve got a date at the cinema and already booked it. I need to go clean my vagina.”

Meanwhile, another member of the group is enthusiastically explaining how their vibrator helped them escape what they call their “junkie drug addict life.” As they put it: “I just need to feel something six or seven times a day, you know?”

I’m glad I stopped in for this pint. It’s been… eventful.