The Cat Is Back! by Michael White

Author:Michael White [White, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EDP
Published: 2012-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

By appearances most people would assess Charlie as surly. (This opinion would usually be arrived at after a conversation that would commence with an uninformed customer approaching the bar, speaking to Charlie and vocalising something along the lines of, "Good evening, Proprietor. May I order a White Chablis, a Taboo Spritzer beer with ice and a packet of Bombay Spice to nibble on. Oh, and whilst you're at it, can I have a look at the menu?" Charlie would smile his wide smile and positively boom,

"We don't do that, I'm afraid."

"Which one?" would smile the customer, thinking to share some mischievous repartee with the landlord.

"All of it." Would pronounce Charlie, and the smile would become just a little wider.

This however, was not the case. He very much believed in the art of giving the punters what they wanted. As long, of course, as what they wanted fell in line with what he was prepared to deliver. This would usually involve some sort of shenanigans to get the potential diner to part with some money for a drink before he told them that the nearest culinary delight they could look forward to was a packet of scampi fries coupled with a small grimy packet that included four Ritz crackers, a Dairy lea cheese slice and a shriveled pickle onion.

That Charlie had very little trouble in imparting this information had a great deal to do with his rather imposing physical presence. Charlie would often boast that he very rarely had any trouble of any kind in his pub. The fact that the landlord was six foot three and built like one of the steel barrels that contained his relatively mundane real ales could have had a great deal to do with it. The cellar man’s apron that none of his customers had ever seen him without, also helped reinforce this opinion. To say that Charlie cut a somewhat imposing presence was like saying that mount Everest was a big mountain.

The Bucket and Shovel was stuck in a veritable Charlie - induced time warp. This revolved around a rather quaint idea of what the local pub should be, and more directly, what it should not be. And the regulars loved him for it. The great thing about a visit to the Bucket and Shovel was that you always knew what to expect. No sudden surprises or arrivals of "beer of the month" to throw you out of your drinking stride. The pub that Charlie ran had very little to offer that could be filed in the cabinet marked, "rare and interesting life enriching experiences", but you did know that you could get a very reasonable price of bitter, and the date of the next race night could be marked very clearly in your social calendar.

Which meant for a brisk trade. Whilst the more consumer orientated pubs struggled to fill more than a few tables of diners on a Tuesday, Wednesday or even Thursday nights, trade for the Bucket and Shovel stayed at a brisk level for most nights of the week.

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