Fare Well Anora!

"The long expected day arrived on Friday. After months of: 'Is it on'? 'Is it off'? 'Has it stalled?' 'Do we need to jump start it?' the lovely Anora finally gave away her last free drink, her last free food; finally gave up trying to make a precarious living in a stagnating economy and shut up shop. The bar will re-open on Monday, same as usual, same booze, same food, same decor, though my Ruppel's Griffon will have gone from the wall, same staff but it won't be, can't be, the same place. And in a month or two, even the staff will have moved on; it will not be the same place for them either.

Strange, the effect one person can have, ay?

It is always difficult to express why one bar/pub is preferred over another. It is seldom the quality of the food or the variety of the booze on offer; there are intangibles at work here which are not just down to the character/persona of the people behind the bar. It is more to do, I think, with the character of the bar itself, which the owner/staff only in some way contribute. It is their ability to attract similar kinds of people which lends the place its 'atmosphaer', its sense of being a place where, whoever is there, there will always be someone this side of the bar who shares a common interest, a topic of conversation, which is not sport.

For certain the absence of a TV or satelite deterred the more moronic, interested only in the latest football or the test at the Oval, and attracted a more discerning crowd, a crowd more interested in talk, discussion, debate than on watching Thierry Henri slot another one past the goalkeeper. It was a place where what you paid for lunch was arbitary, though never more than the 'real price'; a place where you asked for another brandy to drown the sorrows and a bottle would be set on the table with the words, 'help yourself I'm going upstairs for a cigarette!' Who will now get me my Krug from the cash and carry?

There was much alcohol induced merriment that night but such an underlying current of sadness at the loss of what had been so familiar and this was not cured by the attempt of all and sundry to reduce the stock taking exercise on the Monday to the bare minimum (I went for the Maker's Mark and when that ran out started on the JD - I'm nothing if not consistent. That was after the champagne of course. I well remember when JD was such a rarity in UK pubs; mind, no-one still stocks Old Granddad, overproof or otherwise!)

I went in for lunch today and it was already different. True, D is still there but.....it's strange to see a male behind the bar. It's only half the bar it was. When D has gone, as she will be, it will no longer be the place I spent every lunchtime for five years and I will have to find another way to spend that hour of the day. Even the space on the wall where the Griffon used to be spelt the end!

So Anora,

For all the cheap food, thank you!
For all the free booze, thank you!
For leaving, only tears!

Good luck, Daisy, whatever and wherever and however you choose to do!"

It would, I think, be easy to consign this to the over-sentimental bin. But MG is seldom so emotional. Humans always find change hard to deal with, perhaps we should have some compassion here. Fat chance! :)