Sunday came around with snow flurries and blisteringly cold wind; the ground was too warm for the snow to stick so I couldn’t even use that as an excuse not to do the planned long run for the day. I left the house just after 8 and weaved my way over to Wembley to the Wetherspoons there — the disappointingly named “JJ Moon’s;” I think they could easily have come up with a name related to the dairy industry or Barham’s history but either they got lazy or the JJ Moon’s label designates something in particular in the Wetherspoon’s Universe (the Spooniverse?).
I bought my breakfast beer — a stout — from the cheeriest bartender I’ve met in a while. He spotted my coin carrier and remarked, “that’s one of those…those old…”
“Film canisters,” I helped out.
“YES! I haven’t seen one of those in ages!”
“Yeah, I bet you used to carry your weed in there.” He glanced quickly at one of the besuited bouncers (at 9 am they had bouncers).
“I used to do photography back when those were still around,” he corrected me. “What a flash back,” he added. “Get it?”
“Yeah, yeah. That actually works for both our stories.”
Later, he wished me well as I layered back up for the damp, windy run.