I'm Innocent Guv

I’d really quite like to blog about something which happened yesterday, but unfortunately I can’t.

[You can always just ask either myself, Jade or Adam about it in person if you want though]

Because one of the principles which I try and abide by in my posting is that I won’t say anything that might be either misrepresented or misunderstood and thus be potentially damaging to the reputation of the pub.

[The other main principle that I try to abide by is that I won’t say anything negative – unless in affectionate jest – about anyone either by name or in such a way that it would be easy for those in the know – i.e. regulars – to work out who I’m talking about. I just don’t think that would be fair.]

However, I’m led to understand that some people read some of my posts as being unnecessarily critical of the Taps. Which really couldn’t be further away from my intentions. I just like to think that I’m realistic about things.

I have absolutely no doubt that I love the Taps more than anyone else in the entire world, but love really doesn’t necessarily have to be blind. Nor does it have to be unconditional. What love should primarily be is realistic.

And that’s what I am. It’s not negative to note that sometimes on a Thursday night we often get some undesirable people in. Love only really exists when you love someone or something as they really are. Not the way you want them to be, or the way they were, or even the way that they have the potential to be. But the way they are.

That I happen to be a grumpy bugger who can find negatives in most people obviously doesn’t help, but I just wanted to make clear that it’s never been my intention to slag off the Taps. Indeed, as I’m sure you’re aware, as far as I’m concerned it’s the best pub in the world (admittedly I don’t really go anywhere else very often), it’s just that sometimes I’d quite happily shoot half the [regulars excluded of course] people in there.

Some bloke took my stool last night. He saw I was going out for a fag and he knew I was coming back, but he obviously thought to himself, ‘I want to sit down, I’m great, I deserve whatever I want, therefore I’ll take this guys stool.’

And when I came back he just looked at me. Sat on a stool in the middle of the pub (which was smart by the way) in front the big tv on the wall with his friends, he just looked at me wondering what I could possibly want from him.

Why is this strange bearded man starring at me like that? What could he possibly want? I mean here I am sat on this blokes stool right in the middle of the pub, what could he possibly want?

Now it’s not slagging off the pub to say that, it’s just pointing out that some people are just scum. That’s not the pub’s fault. It’s their mums’.