Do you know how much fluid I had in my lung?

And I thought I was bad at conversation topics, many a chat has been about laundry or what's your favourite type of pen to write with. But the table next to ours at the pub on Friday night took the biscuit with a lung fluid conversation. 

It all started with going to the village hall to see a production of Alan Bennet's Talking Heads. We arrived (Leanne and my niece Alex and me) at the village hall - half an hour early to allow for pre-show drinks, and to get a good seat. Although previous experience of the village hall seats forewarned me that none of the seats are good as they all turn into instruments of torture after half an hour. We arrive, drive into a boss parking space (no other cars in the carpark) and sit in the car for a bit. Then another car arrives and they park opposite. Eventually we have the wit to check the notice on the door informing us of the cancellation due to ill-health. Off we all drive.

What to do now? The local was the obvious choice. The nearest pub had a sign saying they welcome customers old and new. Sounds like the place for us. The car park had a promising amount of cars in it - it must be open at least. In we troop. To a welcoming reception? Well, not exactly. More like when the stranger in a western walks into the saloon. All was quiet, all eyes were on us, and it was obvious we had just brought the average age of the clientele down significantly. At least the sign was half right, old customers we welcome.

Leanne and Alex ran the gauntlet of the other customers standing round the bar to get through to a free table. There was someone else making their way towards it, but he was easily out run. It was down to me to make the drink orders, which actually went fairly smoothly, helped I think by me recognising one of the customers. I wan't an outsider after all. 

Back to the table to enjoy the neighbouring tables' conversations. See above. Goodness knows what they thought of our Lady Gaga conversation and Leanne updating her Facebook status on one of them new fangled phones. At least the chairs were comfy.