What coud possibly go wrong?
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Walking into the small but quaint old stone pub
all seems good. We find a table, sit down and wait. No one comes to the table
so we assume you have to order at the bar. Richard approaches the bar, but has
to wait as the barman and two old guys finish their long conversation about
whether or not Manchester United had solved their problems by sacking their
coach. Eventually the barman confirms, ‘Sit down and Lassie will come’.
Several more minutes pass and we have seen neither collie dog nor female
waitress.
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While we wait the locals next to us order and
begin their first course. Much discussion ensues between Lassie and the locals.
‘Who is your grandmother?’ ‘Morag Macdonald’ replies Lassie. “Oh – so who is
your other grandmother?’ Again Lassie replies ‘Morag Macdonald. She lives on
the other side of the street.’ It seems both grandmothers have the same name.
The old local man is perplexed as he used to deliver the local mail and he is
still having trouble working out exactly where Lassie fits.
Fortunately, by the end of their meal the locals
have worked out Lassie’s lineage. ‘Oh, you must be Dickie’s daughter then?’ ‘Yah
Dickie’s me daad’ replies Lassie. Thank goodness that is sorted and we can now
eat.
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The food is quite good considering ‘There’s only
one lad in kitchen tonight.’
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