Pub Justice

Last night I went again to the pop quiz at the Rosemary Branch. It was a bit of a sentimental night because B, the one member one of our regular team who lives near there, is moving to Australia at the end of the week.

On his way to the pub, in the scratty park by the New North Road, B was mugged. They took ’20 off him, plus AU$100 and his bank cards. The AU$100 was a leaving gift he’d just received from his Uncle.

B was very shaken up but stayed and played the quiz anyway (he arrived first at the pub and the marvellous bar people gave him a free pint because he had no cash, bless them). Company, he said, was good and anyway it was our team’s last time.

We won the ’20 beer voucher for winning the main quiz. This was scant consolation for B, mind: by the time we redeem the voucher he’ll be on the other side of the world.

Then we won the Jackpot, which amounted to ‘100. We told B to take what he’d lost (about ’60 he reckoned) then we split the rest between all four of us.

This seemed like a poetic sort of pub justice and was a small good thing to come out of an evening which had looked like turning very bad indeed. Of course, having won the quiz, when we won the jackpot our competitors were not very impressed at all. B thought he heard some actual hissing. I wanted to explain to everyone what had happened, to show them that it was a good thing that we’d won, but I knew that that would make me the King of Berks. And I couldn’t face that, not again.

The ’10 winnings I came away with gets added to the Grecian Earn, obviously. Look! The totaliser’s getting very close to ‘100 now…