An oasis of fun

I went to the pub yesterday. My brother was there, and quite a few other people I know came by. My friends whose family are all on the spectrum popped in too. It was a lovely, lovely group of people. Cunt the Seventh (Mingicus Sativus Hortense var. Zebedoides) was there to start with, but mercifully didn't stay long.

At about 8.30pm the local micropub tour (aka pub crawl) came in, so I did me Neezup Muvver Brahn stuff on the piano. The crowd were such good sports, and some of them told me how much they had enjoyed it. Aren't people kind.

When I finished playing the pub was still crowded, and the atmosphere was lovely. However the autistic stuff set in for those of us it sets in for. My brother stood on the edge of a group, and was obviously having difficulty understanding what was going on. The couple put on a brave face, but looked a bit uncomfortable. I was completely stunned by all the hubbub and found myself rooted to the spot. My brother noticed I was stuck and came over to reassure me. I sat down and pulled myself together.

After the crowd left, we regulars had a good natter and a bloody good laugh. I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday evening. When I think about it, I believe the daily jaunt up to the pub does the same thing as eighteenth-century art. The lovely atmosphere, the conviviality, friendship and fun completely sanitise the unpleasant things in my life; at least while I am there.

Hope you enjoy Knees Up Mother Brown