The bleary eyed guy I picked up early this Sunday morning was reminiscing about Sundays as they used to be. "Aye they've ruined Sundays with these new all day licensing laws, you know" he said. "I used to love the traditional English Sunday" Getting interested I asked him what he meant by the traditional Sunday. "Well I used to have a late lie in bed and then the wife would fetch me a big fried breakfast." "Aye then she would iron me best shirt and I would be off down to the pub for 11:o-clock opening" He paused and went misty eyed at the tender memory's of happier times. "Aye then it was a good few pints and the landlord would ask us to stay for a lock-in." Humouring him I said "no such thing as a lock in nowadays what did it mean back then" "Oh aye it was illegal you know, but that was part of the attraction, they all did it, the doors were locked and curtains drawn and you were there for the full days drinking." After another pause to savour the memory he continued "and then it was stagger off home for a big roast dinner and fall asleep whilst reading the Sunday papers as the wife did the washing up." By this time we had reached town and I asked him where he would like dropping at. Bearing in mind that it was 8:45 am, I was surprised when he said "the Furness Railway they open at 9:am you know." "Why are you going for your fried breakfast, won't the wife make it this morning?"I asked. "No I'm going for a pint or two, and the wife, well she cleared off years ago."
Mmm wonder why, I thought as I drove off.