September 12, 2020

Craving the pint of plain

Just got an absolutely insane craving for a saturday night pint. Not the pint itself but everything that comes with it. Sitting at the bar (which we can't do anymore), watching it settle, chatting to the person next to you be they friend or stranger (which we can't do anymore). That first mouthful that demolishes half the pint. Getting the bag of tayto, ripping them open so they can be shared (which we can't do anymore). A bud walking in, clapping you on the shoulder (which we can't do anymore). Seeing someone you haven't seen in an age, pushing through the crowds for a hug (which we can't do anymore) and a natter. Catching a breeze outside and inevitably ending up in a conversation with someone you've never seen before (which we can't do anymore). Giving the bartender the nod at 1am (which we can't do anymore) for that one last pint, enjoying that good buzz and trying to make it last. Walking home, the comforting warmth of a bag of chips in your hand. The smell of vinegar making you salivate. Eating those last crispy salty bits and then falling into a happy slumber laughing at the silliness that kicked off just after 10pm.

Fuck sake, this thing has me nostalgic for something I'd stopped doing years ago.

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