D’you know what I hate? Rounds!
Yep I know I may well me the minority in this one but I hate rounds in pubs.
I hate having a pint pushed in front of me when I’ve still got a half pint to finish. Doesn’t make any sense at all. Why the fuck would I want a nice fresh pint going stale and warm before my very eyes while I finish this pint before me, which was, by the same token flat and warm before I got to taste it.
I don’t really care that I’ve just bought you a drink. I’m not keeping score. It doesn’t mean I want to be rewarded with stale pints for the rest of the night. No, really, I’m fine, I don’t want another one just yet. No really. Oh fuck you’ve bought me one anyway haven’t you? Great, thanks. Another beautiful pint about to decay before my eyes. Aren’t you the paragon of generosity for delivering my creamy froth well before the chosen hour? Happy? good for you.
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