By
Rob
So
let me set the scene for you: it’s about two o’clock in the
morning, and Robert and Andrew are walking along a dark London Road.
Some
blonde-haired girl comes staggering out from some alleyway or side
street, and takes a look at us.
“Do
you fancy coming back to mine for a drink?” she asks.
Due
to some kind of alcohol-induced synaptic slowdown, we agreed and said
that we would, indeed, like to go to hers for a drink.
Minutes
later, following this girl down London Road, we came to the
realisation that she was not entirely sober. It was something in the
way she walked, namely her inability to pursue a straight line and
frequent missteps, that suggested the influence of drugs or booze (or
both). Also, without putting ourselves down, we had to question
why a girl would take one look at us and then immediately decide that
she wants us both in her flat in the early hours of the morning.
When
Andy told me a story of a similar situation that had ended in a guy
being mugged, we decided to change course. So, not wanting to have an
awkward conversation with our new acquaintance, we literally turned
around on the spot and started walking in the opposite direction. It
says a lot about the girl's state of mind that she didn't even
notice.
We
eventually arrived at The Harley, the pub status of which I have
continuously questioned.
Who
should be sat in there? Only Cowboy Keith!
Andy,
being a gentleman, bought Keith a pint of Guinness to say thank you
for his wingman services. After all, without the help of Keith, there
would have been no handjob. I suggested, to pay the debt off
properly, that Andy really ought to wank him off, but the idea was
shot down pretty quickly.
The
Harley saw us each drink, and finish, a pint of Brimstone ale.
I’ve
never been a huge fan of The Harley, but it was good fun that night,
trying to get Keith to down his pint, starting up a chant that was
taken up by all the students and alcoholics around us.
The
most ridiculous thing we did that night, and perhaps have ever done,
was allow Cowboy Keith to drive us home. The man was clearly very,
very drunk. But then so were we. I will point out, for the record,
that Andy was dead against the idea from the start. But I think he
came around a little when we arrived at our destination with all the
limbs we had set out with…
 |
| Unbelievably, Cowboy Keith contacted us to complain that this article did not show him in his best light, and requested that we take his photo down. So here is an artist's impression. |
The
Harley gets a fair 7/10, and Cowboy Keith should get at least that
many points on his license.
Pub:
The Harley (334 Glossop
Road, S10 2HW)
Rating:
7/10
Pint:
Brimstone
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