I had a much better day at the historic building, and parts of it were even enjoyable. The pub, though, was pretty tedious, and I stopped playing well before nine. It was smartarse night, the 'superior intelligence' bit and all that. This geezer drifted over to me and started talking inane claptrap about music. This time it was the fucking Planets, and I soon shot him down with a bit of simple musicology, which of course I aimed with devastating precision. Then I got the 'I went to public school' bit, and how a gentleman would never wear his tie with the knot I use for mine. I replied that I'm not a gentleman but I have good manners. His face registered that my point had hit home. I assured him too that I had no intention of learning new knots, as it's not important enough.
After I finished playing I took my time with the rest of the pint. Then the very loud music went on and my earplugs went in. Home soon afterwards.
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