Porter’s Lodge, Monument, London   3 comments

I was able to get a beer, eventually, in the Porter’s Lodge, unlike having to supply my own in front of the Angerstein Hotel (did I mention before that they can go fuck themselves?).  Rob at the Porter’s originally offered a free beer after I asked if I could buy one and have it brought out to the London Marathon route, 50 feet away, and gave me his cell number.  I checked back and got a corrected number as he originally gave me one with an extra digit, but he still seemed keen on it then (I can post the emails like I did for the Angerstein if necessary).  On the day, I first got his voicemail, then a message from O2 that the service had been disconnected during my call…if you didn’t want to do it, why offer?

Then, I decided to jump off the course and go over to the dystopian hellscape bunker that is this bar and found my way to the serving area where three tenders were slowly dealing out easy orders to two customers. Okay, Rob didn’t turn off the phone because they were swamped…. Five minutes later, I finally offered to buy the Fosters that took Guinness-time to pour off the customer ahead of me, pointing out that I was under something of a time constraint.

Finding a place to down this was easy but there were so few customers (what a surprise) that I had to get one bleary eyed old alcoholic (I know, I know…pot-kettle) to try multiple times to take this photo for posterity.

Thanks, Rob.  I hope this is the write-up you were shooting for (it could be worse).

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