One marvellous way many people have reacted to the route out of lockdown is to be obsessed with their own world.
So they say: “It’s all very well announcing what’s happening with care homes, but what about golf?”
Or they write furious posts on Facebook, such as: “When are we allowed to go camel-racing again?
"Why no mention? Typical! I know three camel owners who had to sell their oasis to pay the rent! Sign the petition at #gotthehump.”
Or angry people call up radio phone-ins and growl on air: “I’m a Pagan and we’ve heard NOTHING.
“My group likes to dance naked in the forest in a fertility dance and we haven’t been able to do this since last March and it’s affecting our mental health.”
But maybe it’s just as daft we’re told the most important institutions to keep are the pubs.
How can we save more pubs from closing? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below
Apparently we must save the pub – but before lockdown pubs were shutting already. You could order a beer and by the time it was poured the pub had been converted into flats.
Pubs tried to bring in board games in an attempt to make them seem more like a home. There were probably some pubs that let you hang your washing off the dart board and put a bath by the pool table.
Then pubs were full of events, such as quiz nights, karaoke, and book clubs.
If lockdown hadn’t happened, by now they’d have jousting nights and Circus Tuesday, offering trapeze and a curry for just £4.95.
Others might have removed the pool table and replaced it with a ski jump.
But to save the pub, we must return to when they thrived, in the 1970s, when everyone went to them, despite them being the rudest, most unwelcoming places in the world.
Every night at five to 11, the loudest ear-piercing bell would clang, doors and windows would all be opened, the landlord would scream: “CLOSING TIME SO GET OUT YOU ANIMAL OR I’LL ATTACK YOU WITH AN AXE”, and a rabid Alsatian would emerge, possibly followed by a puma.
In every bar was a man who worked in the warehouse at Asda, but insisted this was only as cover for his real job which involved him being in the SAS.
There was a list of only seven topics to discuss, including how many miles per gallon to expect from a Ford Capri 1600, and whether Dave is right to say he could beat a bear in a fight.
There were over 3,000 reasons you could be called a w*****, including not being able to park your car in a tiny space, or knowing the name of a book.
And every night there had to be an incident in the car park, in which two blokes said “come on then” 35 times in a row to each other while everyone stood in a circle shouting either “leave it, Gary” or “do him, Gary”, for reasons such as “he looked at my beer mat”.
And the boozers were constantly packed.
To save the pub we must bring all of this back immediately.
