Whilst relaxing in a hot bath this evening I was pondering the fact that I have not written on the great pub chase recently. In my defence it is a subject that invariably gets raised in face to face conversations. Let me correct this oversight now by saying that I am still fully and totally committed to my pub. My current situation, whilst very difficult, is nothing but a delay to the dream.
It really is a calling rather than a choice, or perhaps its just some sort of psychological disorder. I was speaking to Andrew over the weekend and we hit upon the publican leash. That invisible tether that prevents you getting more than a few miles from the pub. In the Ship I had the frustration of trying to run my life and my business in the merest glimpses of time. Everything is done at high speed within the constraints of opening times. When the pub is busy that makes sense but when its quiet and your tethered to an empty bar its really tough.
The truth is that as annoying as that leash can be I genuinely miss it. I miss getting up a mere few hours after retiring to try and get banking done before opening. I miss racing at breakneck speeds to meet my early customers. I miss the banter with the dray and that boost of pride as the delivery increases. A tidy up in the garage this weekend revived past glories as I organised various pub paraphernalia, I really do miss it.
As observed by the ever insightful Andrew, there are some people that are publicans it really isn’t a choice. Its been a long journey and there’s still a way to go but stick with me folks the destination will be great.
I was going to explain how the pub is in my blood but I think it may reside in some other part of me. After leaving a bath that looked like it was inhabited by piranhas I realised I haven’t got much of my original claret left!