Awol has turned his bedroom into a pub. When I get a text inviting me to the opening night, I think he’s joking. He’s not. He has turned his bedroom into an actual pub. He’s got a fine array of beers, wines, and liquors, not to mention assorted snacks, England flags, a music system and a disco ball. He shows football matches, is not bound by licensing hours and allows smoking in moderation. He is planning themed nights, quizzes, musical entertainment. Sax Chick and I decline his kind offer of free drinks all night if we provide a burlesque show involving the removal of most of our clothing. Awol himself is a genial host and leans on the bar, tea towel in hand. When I overhear him swapping landlord stories with the grizzled hippy who runs the Square And Compass in Worth Matravers I smile to myself. One of the things I love about actors is how fully we can play out an alternative reality.
I initially eschew the invitation as I have some hefty life decisions to make that I think require a measure of sobriety; but after a futile hour of tea-drinking and soul-searching I join the rest of the company. A couple of generous measures of Talisker down the line I have a late night epiphany that solves at least some of my problems.Tea versus Talisker? I think the answer lies in Awol's Inn.
Lx
Above from top: The Landlord; Bones and Fiddle Boy enjoying a late night drink
