The Wheatsheaf, 126 South Lambeth Road

Saturday night, and the only sound to be heard is that of old men expiring into their pints. Nothing happens for a long time. In the saloon bar the occasional statue of a petrified drinker punctuates the shoddy decor, while out to the side we are alone, all alone, in a large and dismal room that looks embarrassed by its own crapness. We desperately cling on to a conversation but I begin to feel overwhelmed by the deathly stillness of the place. A glazed and hideous silence slides into my heart. A whole lot more nothing happens, followed by a particularly long spell of nothing. Time slows, and I lose the will to live. It's much like suspended animation in sci-fi movies, only with bad wallpaper rather than dry ice and glass pod-type things. And, unlike sci-fi films, when we finally escape, the world's still the same outside...

---

All content © Random Pub Finder 2001-2010, website development by Doogal