After a day in the Fish Factory and having one of the fellow fishes get stressed out because of the size of bubbles they were asked to blow, I deserved a pint in the pub. It's what I give myself for having endured and mostly remained calm in the face of big bubbles. I got there and the usual bunch were sitting together, so I found a seat on the end and joined them. Someone had spent a lot of coins feeding the music box and so various tunes were being played out. They were a mix of 80s music and I quite liked them. The group conversation led onto the up and coming World Cup football so I found myself not participating. The intricacies of why certain team members were picked and how the England coach(who is Italian) was going back on his word. Inevitably it sounds like we have another team who have been picked for failure and because of their own prima donna self belief are really going to do nothing for the national team. But I digress. For the subject should be two other characters at the bar.
There sits a crazy old woman, dressed like a Witch and who says she is a Witch. Well if this is her belief I'm not going to state otherwise. Except she is potty without a doubt, I know because many of the other regulars have said so and because I have witnessed her behaviour myself. She's one of these people who likes others to hear her opinion no matter how bigoted she is, and then proclaims it's not her who is the bigot but the rest of the world. At which point she then makes a mortal enemy of the individual who states an alternative view and whispers a spell under her breath. Scarey or what. Mind it always makes me check my Guinness just incase there happens to be a newt's tail in the bottom.
Anyway, I learnt today when she was commenting on one of the other regulars she said something along the lines of "I don't care for him and I wish he were dead," when he had actually just died and the funeral was taking place the next day. The misguided Witch, consequently decided not to frequent the pub for a couple of evenings. What a relief. Then it makes sense after a bloomer of this kind. Her insensitivity knows no bounds we all thought. The days while the witch was absent were conspicuous by our conversations not being littered with interjections from the old girl. Opinions which were pleasant by their absence. So today when I entered, there she was sat at the bar, in her usual seat. Next to her was a one of her family. A man who doesn't look like the Witch at all. However, I am sure he has some genetic connection with a Troglodyte from H. G. Wells Time Machine. Except he is bald and in the film they had longish white hair. The other family trait of being ignorant, opinionated and of dubious intent is also instilled in Mr Trog. It must be a genetic marker, it is the only reason I can come up with the character similarity. Anyway, to cut a long story to a slightly shorter story, it was about this time I realised maybe this was why people would frequent different pubs. For simply, if going to one pub highlights the miscreants in there, going to another there may well be slightly fewer abnormal personalities.
Hence the term "pub crawl." Then again it could just be me, and my abnormal preferrence of quiet pubs, and people who can string one or two sentences together without their knuckles scraping the floor, or some spell being cast. There sure are some eccentric people out there, at a pub near you, so why not visit one I say.
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