Black cat bones

Pub 247. The Black Lion, 11th January 2014.

Pub! Dining! Garden! I hate these tedious and unnecessary mixed-verb/noun proclamations that some pubs insist on. Had the cost of putting it up there ever been recouped by the number of people enticed in by such promises that wouldn't have otherwise gone in? No. Indeed has the cost of the paint used in the lettering been covered thus?? No. It just looks pretentious and stupid, Mr Black Lion.

Anyways, once in it's ok. Just on the pub side of gastro pub. The Adnam's Shingle Bells didn't feel at all festive on this sunny January day but was nice enough.

The place is so cluttered with tables that it's hard to navigate your way around.

But the most annoying thing on this occasion though were the two twerps who got to the bar just before me, and hogged the one barman for what seemed like an hour faffing and flapping about what to drink - and then what to eat. They eventually settled on "a bottle of Hoegaarden [wait 3 mins....] oh sorry make that two please", and then visibly heart-broken there were no scotch eggs (oh so trendy scotch eggs!) they bravely made do with some chips - "chips - frites...?". Welcome to the modern West End Lane!

Still, the beer is nice and a pub is a pub. Dining. Garden.

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