The Fleadh, Preston, Middlesex   Leave a comment


Pub #2115:

Zipping downhill toward Preston Road Station and on to Wembley, I spotted the Fléadh off to my left and decided to take a beer break.  Once they recovered from the shock of a stranger appearing at the bar, sweaty and American and all, the group under the Indian Premier League match went back to loudly explaining things they didn’t understand to one another.  This was beautiful to behold and I wish I had taken notes for specific details.

There was order, in a sense, but it seemed to me that one of the gents would give very questionable details on a given topic and then be met with a counter argument on a completely unrelated subject.  By the time the talking stick (I didn’t see one but it would help explain the protocols in place) returned to the first person in this description he would be on a completely different subject.

The TV I was under had on some clay court tennis with exceedingly attractive Soviet women batting the ball to one another…sweating and making borderline obscene noises with each volley.  One of the Algonquin Roundtable came over and stared at this for an uncomfortably long time considering his tackle was closer to my head than my beer was.  Careful not to speak lest I get sucked into their realm — the world of the Clavins — I just nodded and tipped my beer his way when he grunted in my direction.  I had places to go and things to do, though, and soon moved on my way.




Posted May 2, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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