Buck stops here

Pub 131. The Buck's Head, a while ago.

From the last time I went here, which was quite some time ago, all I remember is the toilets. I don't remember the beer, the service, the decor, the people drinking, the music... although I do recall it was very loud. But all I definitely remember is the toilets. Well, not so much the toilets themselves but the people in there. People, men & women - or more accurately boys & girls - were shamelessy and gamely partaking in cocaine with such excitable gay abandon it was as if there were taking turns at a particularly well stocked bran-tub.

I looked on in astonishment, having never seen such unabashed class-A taking before. Or since. No-one turned to me to ask what was I staring at, but as they were making no effort to hide anything why would they? Bunch of idiots.

I'm sure it's all lovely now, but I can't imagine going back any time soon - for the wanton lack of an apostrophe if for nothing else. Actually, peering through the windows taking the photo above it does look quiet pleasant inside but on this occasion I had other business - some other time again though I'm sure.

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