So the dust is settling and things are getting back to normal.
For those who are still interested, I finally got the new laptop to run Linux Mint and Windows 8 [with Classic Shell so it looks and acts like Windows 7].
Of course in the background, life carried on, and in the course of the week I had occasion to visit a pub.
Nothing unusual in that, except that it was not my regular haunt. I was meeting a friend and it was his choice of venue.
The first thing that struck me was how deserted the place was. There was a large lounge with about ten people sitting huddled at corner tables in the semi-darkness as if they were ashamed to be there.
The second thing to strike me was that there was music playing [stuff from the Seventies - not bad, actually] while televisions were silently showing some fucking football match.
What the fuck is it with pubs and televisions? That football match was being displayed on about five large screens which were strategically placed to catch my eye wherever I looked. Much as I dislike the damned game I found myself constantly drawn to the flickering screens even though there was no commentary and the content was as boring as shite, and I noticed that the other few patrons were also glowering at the screens and trying to look away. I really fucking hate televisions in pubs.
One thing that did catch my eye was an advertisement. It was for one of those monthly magazines where you build as model, as they send you the parts. Now this model is of a steam locomotive and seeing as both my friend and I have a passing interest in the subject we got talking about it. We both agreed that it was an horrendous waste of money, as the subscriptions are usually high. I actually looked up the cost of building that model and it works out at 130 monthly issues costing €10,99 each which comes to a grand total of €1,429, which is indeed a little steep for a model that you have to build yourself and supply the paint and all? And they also charge extra for bindings! Fuck that.
Anyways, back to the pub.
Naturally during the course of the evening I whipped out my baccy, my lighter and my pipe, as one does. We promptly got turfed out the back amongst the beer barrels, as momentarily I had forgotten about those fucking anti-smoker laws.
It was quite pleasant out there as the evening was warm, and best of all there was no televisions.
As we left to go home I noticed that there were now just two people staring miserably at the flickering screens.
Well, they insist on putting up those televisions, and they insist on enforcing that fucking smoking ban.
I don’t feel in the least bit sorry for them.