I was sussing the competition and deciding whether to go for it and buy me own pub, something I’ve always wanted to do, and hey, it’s only money, and I made a few quid in Stepney before the taxes started to bite.
So, the competition, there’s The Baaamy Inn owned by Keith, looks like a fun place full of jokers having a laugh, and then there’s the SS Cafe and Bistro, not sure about that place, SS has a sinister connotation, and I’d be quite within my rights to be wary of the place.
I had a pint at the Baaamy Inn, exchanged pleasantries with Len the barman, listened to some of his jokes, and then wandered over to the SS Cafe and Bistro.
There was this tall, skinny, bloke talking to a small fat bloke who gave me the once over as I entered, another bloke was discussing the movie Odyssey in a Greek accent to two women patiently hearing him out, and the barmaid looked me up and down, and said what’s your pleasure.
I ordered a beer, felt like a fag, and waltzed over to the cigarette machine placed at the entrance, astounded to see a pile of Watch Tower magazines placed in a wooden rack , which threw me for a loop, and I thought, blimey, I know I’m a confused Limey, but this is beyond the pale.
Anyway, now I know my competition, I think I will open me own pub and try to make a go of it, after all we are in the Dog Days of Summer, trying to function in all this heat, so I purchased this run down bar halfway between the Baaamy Inn and the SS Cafe and Bistro and named it the Wily Trout.
Lensdiary 