In the meantime I've had my first experience of "The Living Room" (the new place they put in the prison yard where they used to hang people, just over where they dug up that plague pit) for the company christmas do of
damiancugley. It started off ever-so promising, in the back room, with brown leather padded doors and freakish antler things everywhere, and the bulk of the seating provided by enormous brown leather beds covered with "scatter cushions". It was like something out of 70s Playboy world, I kept expecting to turn over the cocktail list and find the one for coke and whores.However, the food was sub-Bernie-inn awful, the service smacked of having been bought up from Pizza Hut the previous week, and then there was the (da-da-da-dum) Lounge Singer. Whose musical mutilations were even piped into the toilets to be sure that there was No ESCAPE. Guh.
Things improved when they replaced him with a large floral arrangement, although I imagine the people sitting closer to the entertainment screen (which appeared to be on some sort of cocktail/perfume/car advert loop) didn't benefit that much.
I skipped much of the food, but elected to stay to have another pass at the cocktail list, particularly as they were letting us back into the Weird Antler Room. The cocktails I sampled were very good indeed, although
oxfordhacker expressed some disappointment at his margarita; probably better to hit the specialities rather than go for your classics/favourites as they do like getting frilly with the ingredients.Next up: a team, away day in Swindon outlet village. Truly, I am living the Mr Scruff dream. Speaking of which; tea.
