(Lunches from Pubs)
There used to be no stauncher supporter of pub lunches than me, what with all the meat and cheese and beer they usually involved. Plus, cheap as slightly nasty chips, and no awkwardness with tips and service. If you’d have told me that I might get a bit tired of pub lunches I would’ve laughed in your face and very possibly challenged you to a duel. But such is the position I find myself in.
The office I work in is a bit too pub lunch focused. Every Friday I am perfectly happy with, but then you have to add in people’s birthdays, after meetings, particularly sunny days, particularly boring days etc. Last week, no word of a lie, I had four pub lunches in a row (over 4 days, I hasten to add). After a while the constant cycle of fish and chips, bangers and mash and burgers oppresses the soul and the stomach. Don’t get me wrong, I try to resist. ‘I have bought sandwiches’ I cry, ‘pah’, they respond, ‘you can eat them tomorrow, you big girl.’ ‘But, I’m skint’, ‘it’s only £3, sure’, ‘I’m getting fat’ (I’m not, of course, but I was clutching at straws), ‘yes you are’, they lie in perfect harmony, ‘but burgers taste nice’. And there’s really no answer to that.
All I have to look forward to is a big pile of food, a couple of pints and a sleepy afternoon. Which isn’t so bad, I suppose.