pumpkinstrokemarrow

Trains all up the spout last night because of a security alert or something. Indicators boards all up the spout too so one did not have a clue what was going on. So decided to grab a train to Chessington North while the going was good and hoof it from there, thereby taking in a couple of different hostelries.

The first was fairly full with youngish people. A lot of women in tight clothes and high heels. Dancing. Rather off warm beer with a name I had never heard of before; clearly not their thing. While I was doing the beer, the young men next to me were discussing the poker game of the night before. It seems that one of them, a novice player, had scooped £400. Felt a bit bad about taking the money but did anyway. My thought was that this was a lot more money than I would care to gamble in a pub, although I dare say I could afford it better than they could. Next thought was for the young lady I met after the Derby years ago. She was a shop assistant or a clerk or something and she had had a win bet £400 on a horse called Imperial Scholar which came in second. One might have thought that this was a lot of money for her but she did not seem terribly upset. But I did alright because I remembered the name of the horse and had occasion to back it on some subsequent occasion when it won. The question is, are the people who use pubs of this sort more likely to bet serious money than the city gents who make their day money by betting with other peoples' money?

The golf club, which includes a pub, was next, but the gates were firmly shut by the time I got there. Clearly a pub with restricted hours. Or maybe they did lock-ins. I wondered whether to investigate whether the pub operated by the polo people at the back of their indoor riding school was up and running again and then thought not. Bit out of my way in the likely event of it being either shut or shut to me.

So onto the second, a couple of miles further on from the first, which was not so full. On the left was a party of rather tough looking young men playing cards. Neatly enough turned out, neither scruffy nor dirty. Modest amount of drink on the table. Very little in the way of female company despite it being a Friday night. On the right were various groups of mainly older men, some of whom had been toughs when younger. I was in the middle having a discussion about a variation on the mad cow disease. After a while, an older man who had taken on a fair bit of beer & etc wandered over to the young men playing cards and started a discussion about a rather scruffy small dog which I think belonged to one of them. After a while some of the younger men rare up. Things look to be heading for a fight. Manager intervenes and calms things down. Older man retires to his side of the bar. Much muttering on both sides. But then the older man can't resist making some audible crack - at least it was audible to the young men. Who rare up again. Manager intervenes again. Older man does it again. After a bit the young men leave. But one of them, small and very aggressive, just before he leaves, says that he will just go round and bash the gadjo who insulted him. Or at least, that was the word I thought he used. At which he nips around and administers two smart bashes to the head of the older man. He knew how to use his fists. Small aggressive man leaves. Older man unconscious on the floor. Various people gather round to help. After a while he starts to sing in a silly way but does not get up. Ambulance summoned and arrives in about five minutes. Police car cruises around outside. Opinions divided in the pub: some people thought the older man should have shut up and he got what he deserved. Others thought that the young man had no business bashing such an old man on such a slight provocation. Indeed, I think the original provocation was entirely accidental. I leave.

Somewhat shocked by the mindless violence of the young man. Every bit as aggressive as one of those fighting dogs that people of his sort are fond of. Presumably these travelling people - for that was what the young men were - are almost as violent among themselves as they are towards us gadjos. I have heard that their level of domestic violence and wife bashing is pretty horrendous. When will they grow up and start living decent like the rest of us?

PS: tried to contact the Inland Revenue today, with a view to giving them some money. I couldn't find a way to send them an email but I could find a call centre number. Which behaved just the same as everybody else's. Very keen on maximising the work rate of their staff, thereby maximising the waiting time of yours truly. Why do all these people behave as if their time is so much more important than ours? Lots of press 3 if you want to blah and lots of please continue to hold because your call is so important to us. Trashy music. Give up after five minutes or so. Try again next month.