Wednesday, 10th January.
Cam came round my place, and we were sitting around doing
pretty close to nothing, and I said "Palace are playing Liverpool
tonight, wanna go to the pub and watch the game?" Well Cam was out
the door before I had even finished the sentence.
"We won't go to the Mitre," I said, "it's a shocker. We'll go
to the Salisbury, it's just round the corner."
"Nice pub," Cam observed once we were inside, "shame it's full
of toffs." He was right: it was wall-to-wall Fulham boys and
girls. We stood out like sore thumbs. Amongst the round-shouldered
girls with droopy breasts and the fellas wearing Fulham-issue
shirts and trousers, two six-foot-plus Australians looked
distinctly out of place. We positioned ourselves underneath one of
the tv screens.
We were the only people in the place watching the game. "Even in
another pub, where nobody was interested in the game, you'd at least
see the blokes keeping one eye on the score," commented Cam,
"all I can see in here are people 'air-kissing'!" We cacked
ourselves as at that precise moment a bottle blonde air-kissed a
Fulham boy right in front of us.
You can pick the real residents of Fulham. They're the people
that stayed in Fulham at Christmas instead of going home to mummy
and daddy in Berkshire or Canterbury or wherever.
Our attention returned to the game. Crystal Palace scored
a goal. "YES!" we chorused (cheering for the underdog, it's an
Australian thing). But we were the only people in the pub who
noticed! I looked around, and the remainder of the patrons of
the pub were talking in their loud posh accents, laughing
gaily (or should that be gaily laughing? answers to:
and generally ignoring the First Leg of the Semi-Final of the
"I've never seen so many toffs before!" Cam said, shaking his
head in disbelief.
"You should go to the
Sloane Pony sometime," I replied.
Crystal Palace scored their second goal, and we had another
teeny-tiny two-man celebration. One of the Fulham girls near us
turned to the Fulham boy next to her and asked what was going on.
"Oh, Crystal Palace are two-nil up against Liverpool," he said
knowingly, reading the score off the tv. We laughed out loud at
Back at home, I was watching a little bit of telly, and Emily
came home. We exchanged minor chit-chat, and I mentioned that I
had been to the Salisbury Inn or Tavern or whatever it's called.
"Oh, it's really nice there," enthused Fulham girl Emily.
"Oh, yeah," I said, stifling the urge to mention that it's ruined
by all the toffs that fill the place.
One final comment: every time I go past the Salisbury there is
someone outside (either a Fulham boy or a Fulham girl) talking on
their mobile phone.