Pub conversation is a funny thing. Now don’t get me wrong, most of the conversation you have in the pub is the same as most of the conversation you have outside of the pub (albeit with a lot more swearing and pauses where you have to think…hang on what was I saying again?), but there are some conversations which you only ever hear in the pub, for instance Adam’s regular updates from the front line of his long running clandestine feud with his family’s fat cat, or updates on Gerry’s improbable long running feud with television chef Rick Stein.
Whimsical, non sequiturous (if that’s a word) conversations like that don’t happen out in the real world (probably for good reason), or if they did people would think that you were mental.
But they’re one of my favourite things about pubs. [Conversely one of my least favourite things about pubs is when you get lumbered with some drunken reactionary bore banging on about the immigrants or Political Correctness gone mad or the Muslims or advocating shipping all prisoners off to an Island off the coast of Northern Russia and just leaving them there (no wait, that one’s me)]
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