The air is filled with cigarette smoke. Regulars snuggle in their usual corners quaffing their beers. Weekend revellers sway against each other on the packed floor, staircase included, mimicking the rough-hewn voice of Janis Joplin in Ball and Chain that crackles through the much-abused stereo. I stand in a corner, waiting for my nimbu pani. (Writing an article requires a clear head.)
Says The Good Old Daze:
"Probably the only pub that'll feel complimented if you call it a dead place. Problem is we play Grateful Dead so often, the regulars think they're in heaven."
"Upstairs to the loo. Downstairs for cigarettes. No wonder our regulars are so fit."
"Money can't buy me love" - Paul McCartney, 1964.
"Money can't buy me love. I'll take your credit card"- Paul of Pecos, 2003.
"Drink to the guys from whom Michael should learn to rock."
2 comments:
Brilliant post! Stumbled onto ur blog from Confuzed Jughead's. I love the way you write about PECOS. You must be quite a regular there. I used to call it home...cos that's exactly the way i feel when i step into that place. I went there last week after a couple of years and it felt good to be back... I miss the place. Your post brought back some awesome memories!
Thanks! am glad that it did.
yes, pecos used to be one of my fav haunts. not sure when il get to visit it again tho coz i won be in blore for a while..guess thats what its great for..the place smells of memories..
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