Pub Lunch

We discovered through a conversation in the chatroom yesterday that the Milk Monster Family were in Southampton this weekend.

They’d had lunch in a pub, which MMM couldn’t remember the name of, but after some “Twenty Questions??? style guessing we decided it must have been the Cowherds. At the time I said that I’d only ever eaten there once, but when I sobered up and my memory returned I realised that this was far from true – the Gottlegog family regularly had Sunday lunch there when I was a little ‘un, and I’ve been a few times since. But one particular occasion sticks in my mind…

We’d had an exhausting weekend running a Hospital Radio outside broadcast from the Balloon Festival on the Common, a large open space in which the pub is situated, and to celebrate, the key members of the event team (i.e. those of us who’d been daft enough to stay on site all weekend) decided to go for a meal. The Cowherds was chosen as the venue, although I can’t remember why – we’d all been home and showered, slept and put clean clothes on, so there was no reason why it was any more convenient than any other pub. Being a Monday night it was fairly quiet, and when the six of us trooped in there was just one elderly couple occupying a table in the middle of the room: We were put on the next table.

Needless to say, it was Jenny who let the side down, announcing with delight “Yay, food fight??? as soon as the bread rolls appeared. With shock on their faces, the elderlies immediately asked to be moved to another table. As far as I can remember we didn’t do anything to earn their opprobrium, although I wasn’t driving that night so most of the later stages are a bit of a haze.

I haven’t eaten there since.

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