McDunkinpizzapalaceplace.

Going to the Dog'n Duck!

It was such a nice sunny Thursday that I decided to take a walk from my home in Mansfield UK, alongside the river Maun to The Dog 'n Duck in Kings Clipstone some half dozen miles distant.

A marvellous walk on a path that takes in the ponds and lakes with only a little bit of roughing it towards the end.

Out on the road at last in Kings Clipstone, I set off through the village to find the one and only pub within miles. Making that short perilous walk through the little village made me realise once again how dangerous that short stretch of road is. No pavements coupled with fast heavy traffic is no place for the faint hearted. After risking life and limb and with only a pair of slightly soiled underpants to show for it, I reached the sanctuary of the Dog 'n Duck.

The pub door was open so I made my way through the portal and towards the bar to order a refreshing pint of "Dark Destroyer". But before I had reached the bar I was stopped in my tracks by one of the male members of staff. He informed me that the bar wouldn't be open for another eighteen minutes or so, at 12 o'clock.

A bit disappointing that, but no sweat, I went out and found myself a spot in the shade at one of several empty picnic tables next to the deserted car park and the empty childrens play area.
With eighteen minutes to kill until I could get my parched lips into the brimming creamy head of a cool pint of "Dark Destroyer", I wrested a Mars Bar from my day-pack and took a bite and sipped a little water from my "Come on England" water bottle.

Just at that moment a smart looking young female came towards my table. Tall, shapely hipped and slim waisted, she proved to have very little up top. This Ms. McJobsworth proceeded to read me the riot act concerning my taking alfresco refreshments. Apparently I wasn't allowed to consume my own refreshments on their premises! I told her that I had just tried to get refreshments in the bar but had been turned away, but it made no difference.

According to this She Devil I would have to wait until the pub was open before I could slake my thirst. So I packed my kit-bag and yomped it back the way I'd come to locate the next nearest pub THREE MILES AWAY!

This happened, after the fifty odd years that I've used The Dog'n Duck as a drinking hole. I used it most when it was a jolly decent village pub, before it had the heart and soul ripped out to turn it into a sort of pseudo McDunkinpizzapalaceplace. Even more disheartening was the realisation that the heart and soul was also missing from the McJobsworths' who spoiled my day and that same heart and soul is fast departing this once idyll of an ideal village.

Never no more will I be on their side about the traffic problem that is the bane of the village. The traffic can whizz round and disappear up it's own fundaments for all that I care now. I'm orf dahn to another pub!


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