3:33PM began festive day of birthday celebrations for Jocko’s 33rd. Cold had set in bones and shivering took good part of hour to drown out. Pint of Foster’s shandy helped soothe muscles and convulsions. Two work buddies and one television accountant joined in the first point of pub crawl once sun began to set over the Avon Gorge. One work buddy finished plate of steaming overly cheesy Nachos that I had left to the side unfinished.
Second pub was true gentleman’s hole in the wall. Fire barely making a dent in the frozen air, and small dog hogging any warmth that may have oozed out. Big sign reads “Don’t Feed Dog.” Conversation over meaning of the term “Catalan” takes quarter of hour to complete. Mate forces Jock to drink Moonshine for his seconds. I stay on beer.
Purple polo shirt enters and takes his seat next to Jock’s. Greetings are manly and jovial. 
Feeling happy, warmer and excited for what will come.
Wife of work mate is about to leave from where she is with baby – the Royal Oak pub down the street. He asks if we want to see the new 8 week old. We leave hole in wall, briskly and effervescently pump through city ten minutes to find next stop. Crawling is not what we’re doing. Pub leap is more like it. Baby is fast asleep in corner of steamed up boozer. Five percent of drinking population in this one equals women. I am becoming less and less of a minority believe it or not.
Carolers enter outside scene in gloves, hats and scarves singing songs I never knew existed and in angelic tones, and I am thrown into English romanticized version of what it is like for Christmas. Mulled wine must be next drink of choice to complete idolized dream. It is warm, fruity, smoky and everything I hoped this drink would be. Will definitely be having more. No one can bring me down from this festive spirit that has taken over. I kiss Jock to make sure this is all real.
Pubs start blending into one. Friends of Jock’s enter and exit throughout night graciously kissing on cheeks and commenting on my new hair. Jock gets more and more cards to put into my small purse. Night ends in kebab take away joint – after all, we hadn’t had a thing since the Nachos at 3:33PM.
To top off the Christmas feeling, after the rest of England has been hit by snowstorm after snowstorm, Bristol has remained dry. That is, until midnight last night. The view from our yard this morning:
Related posts:
- Dear Alcohol, You exhaust me. After I left you a month ago,...
- A Change is as Good as a Rest It’s easy to look back on this year when someone...
- When the Sun Shines in England. Saturday was one of those days England could have gotten...
- My First Old Trafford Experience Tick that one off the list. I went to Manchester...
- London Calling. Another weekend in London. Friday night. Wine Tasting at Vinopolis...
