Craigy’s challenge had finally arrived.
Would his efforts all go to plan? The
pressure was on, luckily the heavy snows had begun to melt away just in time, so
the trek to another neck-end type of place could go unhindered.
After much deliberation, both a mini bus and a taxi had
been ordered to keep costs down, but for one way only from the Westbury.
Weren’t we coming back? Are
the rumours of it not being in the safest of areas true? Phil
joined us in the minibus for extra security carrying a weighty carrier bag
loaded with out dated wine, some going back as far as 1999.
Neck-ender Nige (no-el), Spikelet (Golden Wonder Boy), new
recruit Dave (Russ), and Keith (I’m on for it), were waiting patiently for us
in the salubrious lounge at the King's Head or Scrimmeys.
Nige give his seat up to Bill so that they could converse on a common
level. I could sense the “I’m a
celebrity, get me out of here” vibes from Phil as we entered.
Not the normal totty-spotting type of pub that Beardie’s used to, he
took up a position in the look-out tower at the end of the bar for a while with
what surely must have been a pint of smoothflow.
We started on the doubles early tonight spotting Andy Norman in the other
bar. It obviously wasn’t though
cus he was drinking a pint. Bass was really the only option on tap. Scrimmeys has a good reputation for its Bass. As
good as it ever can be, the choice of real ales was otherwise lacking.
Richie and Scottie confessed to arranging a ‘Big Apple’ trip in March
using half of Scotties wedding money. The
wedding isn’t due until October, but unless Scottie works overtime then it
looks like the promised trip to Cyprus may get changed to Blackpool or Neckend.
What a start to married life! And
a stag night to pay out for yet, to which everyone’s invited.
As the Indian was not licensed we tripped down to a local
offie. The main offie had closed at 8pm so as luck had it we found another one
just down the road. We’d have had
no choice but to share Beardie’s wine if this offie had been shut.
It was a night for seeing doubles. Another one appeared in Shezans in the form of Dickie Bird, out having a quiet night out with his wife and friends..
A table had been laid out for 12 diners.
How strange when there were 14 of us?
An extra table was added on the end by the waiter and it’s previous
owners ejected elsewhere. A space on the end now became available which Nige used as a
stop gap throughout the evening when he couldn’t squeeze back into his chosen
seat. No sooner were we
settling down however when we were up again to begin the sampling. The same dishcloth that is used in Harry’s Bar in Stoke
must have been used to clean the tables. It
was nigh impossible to rearrange a plate or cutlery without using a jackhammer
first to pry them off the table. Phil
opened the wine and then the beers, spraying the tables to make them just a
little bit more tacky.
Shezans it could be argued is an improvement on the Old
Indiana Jones. Now providing a
buffet type service only, the extensive spread of meals are arranged in heated
space helmets, like you’d see in a space movie.
Virtually everything was piping hot and available, except for the onion
bahjis which run out for a short time. Stubbie’s
had missed out again tonight on one of his favourite pastimes, oh Gilly!
From kurmas to madras’s, the selection was excellent; and you could
always finish off if you had room with rice pudding, fruit salad or a slice of
Calcutta gateaux, or several slices in Craigy’s case.
Well I suppose he deserved it handling the pressure so well and the
nagging pain from his ulcers was now subsiding.
With confidence rising, he confirmed he was 100% positive that he
couldn’t eat any more food. His swollen paunch was exposed across the table, Scottie
produced his stethoscope and tapped away to diagnose that his ulcers had gone
but that he’d only got 2 months to go. Just
one task left then, and that was to sort the bill out. Phil jumped in at this point to help Craigy out who by this
time had gone, along with his remaining supply of Gaviscon tablets.
So gone in fact that he’d have still been there now sorting out the
bill; even at £9.95 a head.
The timing was perfect, 10.30pm, paid up and full to the
brim. The beardy boys fled in
search of life in Hanley whilst the rest of us arranged our own return journeys
home. Some of us returned in the
same minibus, without the roof lining, and the rest by car, or ever faithful
Pam.
Well done Craigy Baby, a man in the making. A separate minibus and a taxi? A table set for 12? The offie shutting at 8pm. No return lifts arranged. Bass only available. A minibus without roof lining!
Can he improve his skills with the trip to Draycott to be arranged in the near future?
Yupmeister