NERDS’ RAMBLE No. 252 - 17/11/10.
Those Present - Lafayette, Sandyballs, Froggy, Matt, El Paco, Dio.
The Urban Ramble.
The previous week Mr and Mrs Sandyballs had gone shopping in Brighton for a wedding dress for Princess Rebecca who was due soon to marry The Earl of Warwick and had fallen by chance on an upmarket restaurant which Sandyballs was eager to try out on the NERDS. The particular day of the ramble it was cold and shitty; dull and blustery; just the day for an urban ramble where nobody would get blown about on high hilltops but might instead find a few cosy pubs to hibernate in. The NERDS were joined by a Mystery(ish) Guest, a foreigner who Lafayette had bribed some I.O. to let into the country so that he could marry his No. 1 daughter. This was the leather clad Yank, Dio, a strong but silent type who Matt immediately bonded with because of his fancy coat.
Off we all went to Brighton where Sandyballs, holding a few bits of paper tried to convince us that this was a proper ramble with cows and sheep and landscapes and stuff. Not a chance! This was just Brighton on a crap day. Still, Dio thought it was exciting; you know what Americans are like about tourism. No sooner had we got within spitting distance of The Royal Pavilion than he whipped out a camera and was taking pictures and asking questions about Mad King George.We tried to tell him that this particular Scots bloke had been ousted in the last election and was busy writing his memoirs but Dio would have none of it; he was convinced that the Prince Regent had built himself a house in Brighton to get away from his domineering father - and who were we to disillusion him?
As a result of all this culture the NERDS were getting thirsty but each pub they tried refused to open. “What was going on?” they thought. Had Brighton heard the NERDS were on the rampage or something. Had everyone’s daughter been locked up? We were even willing to pay for our drinks. Eventually, after we had been refused entry to four different pubs Sandyballs consulted his guide and led us into an amenable hostelry called The Bulldog.
Nice place, we thought. At least it sells Harvey’s. Matt sat himself comfortably beneath one of those quirky slide shows you see at people’s birthdays and retirements, you know , the ones where people with long hair and sideburns hug their slim wives, or where everyone sits around at a barbecue with a raised glass, ie. the way we once were when we were young and carefree. Ha, ha; this slide show showed handsome and nakedish young men draped on towels and covered in slimy soap (at least, I think it was) or else actually kissing each other. My god, hadn’t these people heard of girls!
But there you go, at least the beer was good and everyone inside was very friendly.
Tiring of all this decadence Lafayette dragged everyone out of the drinking hole and marched them round to his favourite macho gun shop. “Ah, Mr Lafayette,” the owner exclaimed. “ you have come to buy yet another Kalashnikov, how many is that now , four or five? And you have brought your little companions, are we to fix them up too with nasty weapons so that you can make your mark back in Pakistan again?” Lafayette mumbled something about just popping in to get a tin of pellets and tried to saunter coolly out of the shop before more hideous details of his personal life were revealed . Dio was advised to put down the Thompson sub machine gun he wanted to try out round the back; such vulgar displays of enthusiasm aren’t British, he was told.
Now to The Cricketers pub, a haunt of Brighton players and thespians, with plushy covered seats and discreet lighting. You can’t say that Brighton doesn’t encourage illicit sexual relations everywhere. The NERDS all sat bolt upright not daring to touch knees - you never know who might be watching. Matt told us a fascinating tale of how he had nearly bled to death that morning trying to rescue a twenty pence piece that had fallen under his bed (wow!) and Froggy claimed The Office would miss him when he was gone because he alone tidied up after everyone else, darned their socks and entertained them with morose guitar music. Matt claimed that he used to do Fridge Watch all by himself just to make sure there was always enough food to feed the seagulls, and Paco chimed in, with his bid to be Office Treasure by virtue of putting all the office lottery money on red in the casino in Dieppe and managing the tea club so that every Algerian who was refused got a glass of champagne before being chucked back on board the boat.
Finally Sandyballs got everyone to follow him to his new-found restaurant. This was Gekko’s which allowed O.A.Ps to stuff as much as they could for £3.99, although you were only allowed two hours to do it in. Bitterly disappointed as he was not to get the Old Gits’ reduction, Froggy thought the concept was manna from heaven. Well, not quite, but not far off . There was about twenty five yards worth of sizzly, succulent buffets encompassing Chinese, Indian, Mexican. American, Italian foods. And so the NERDS dived in. After a thirteen course meal Froggy thought he’d go for his fifth attempt at the soup but found by this time he couldn’t get up. Matt was busy shovelling stuff into his pockets for later while Dio massacred a beef burger. We all agreed that Sandyballs had made a good find here and it became one of the few places to get a NERDS Approved sticker (when we get round to having them printed).
On, on for a Nostalgia trip down to The Great Eastern to see if the ghost of He Who Drank Too Much Red Wine might still be sitting up a corner listening to shite country music and drinking wine - but surprisingly enough he wasn’t. Apparently everyone at some time had been dragged down here by Philby to be shown “this marvellous, bohemian pub full of amazing atmosphere,” Lafayette thought it was fairly ordinary, really although the books were good and Froggy resumed reading the one he’d had to put down last time. We asked Dio, as a newcomer, his opinion of it , and he opined again that “It was very British” Yeaah, well…
Bascally that was it and we all cleared off home. It had been an interesting ramble, especially the bit in the non girly Bulldog pub, and Sandyballs is to be congratulated on his choice of lunch venue. We hope Dio didn’t find it all too strange and that he stays long enough to assimilate “British” social mores.
Love from Lafayette.
No comments:
Post a Comment