Continental Sausages

In much the same way that there are only two types of people who have allotments in Levenshulme (old Irish blokes who grow potatoes, and people like me- latter-day incomers who fondly imagine they can grow parsley) there are two types of places to get a drink, namely:

1. In the pubs. The Midway may be no more (it's either a Cash n Carry or a Language School nowadays, possibly both) and the Church Inn may have been flattened to make way for the carpark of the Medina International Superstore, but there are still a dizzying array of boozers dotted along Stockport Road, ranging from the Slightly Daunting, to the Not-Exactly-For-The-Faint-Hearted, to the Frankly Terrifying. Somewhere in the middle of this spectrum lies Hennigans Sports Bar, a dimly-lit kitchen-sized cavern featuring satellite-enabled TVs hanging from every crevice and posters outside procaiming 'Hurling Final, Mayo v Galway, 2 oclock throw-in', and 'Fathers Day Special. All White Spirits £2 a double- for dads only. Noon onwards'.

2. In the old Post Office which has been converted into a trendy delicatessen/ cafe bar/ community venue. This is a relatively new establishment which is the subject of the 'Have You Been to Pod yet' conversation which I have had approximately fifteen times with different people, at the train station, on the school run, or (in hushed tones lest the regulars overhear) in one of the more or less terrifying pubs:

'So have you been to Pod yet'

'Oh I have- it's great isn't it?

'I know- I mean it's about time Levenshulme had something a bit more, you know...'

'I know exactly what you mean. Something more for people who, you know...'

The 'Have You Been to Pod Yet' conversation tends to trail off slightly at that point, because we are all Guardian readers, us Pod types, and we don't want to end those sentences with the words in our heads which are respectively '... a bit more civilised', and ' ....for people who aren't old Irish blokes in cardigans or muscle-armed racist builders with faces like blunt chisels '.

Anyway the reason I tell you all this is that the Pod (or P-O-D- Post Office Deli)- is my excuse for falling at the first hurdle in my Unwise One Post A Weekday Undertaking. I went out armed with the Guardian Weekend Section for a quiet contemplative pint (well a quiet contemplative bottle of something organic and probably Belgian) and, the Pod being the only place in Levenshulme where people who are 'well, you know' hang out, immediately found myself not only in a vey brightly lit room not unlike the kitchen in my own house (albeit four times bigger and with a more extensive selection of continental sausages) but also among people of my slight acquaintance who inveigled me into a pub quiz. I stayed for two rounds, during which I correctly identified a blurred picture of Kirsty McColl (or at least I might have done, it could have been Tracey Ullman), and the voice of Suggs of Madness covering Lola by the Kinks.

So- not an unproductive evening, even if it meant I fell at the first hurdle in the Unwise Undertaking (on which, by the way, how about we split the difference. Once every two days is so much more civilised, don't you think? A deal? Ah you're a fine set of fellows so you are. Now, another bottle of something Belgian and cloudy, is it? I like it in here, dont you. It's so much more- you know....')

Comments

[looby]

Ah yes, that syndrome... I know.

We've got a new "Novel Cafe" here. Books all round the shelves plus good coffee. Shame these things never have alcohol licenses, but then that might make them a bit less, you know.

[ISBW]

We can't bloody MOVE round here for places that are a bit more, well, you know. Try to find somewhere you can buy a pair of socks, though, and you're stuffed.

The thing that amazes me is that they all seem to be packed, all day every day. Who are these people with all this time on their hands? Haven't they got blogs to check or displacement activities to be getting on with? Drives me MAD.