Saturday, 25 February 2012

The Commercial Tavern

ED. You’re late.
ME. Yeah, it was really nice. There were about ten of us. Ryan’s mum, Mimi’s mum, Charlotte’s mum, Georgia’s mum, Ella’s mum, Jade’s mum, a new girl… what’s her name, Catty, Catty’s mum…
ED. Is that what you wore?
ME. Ed the pub we went to was AMAZING. I can’t believe a boy from your school’s parents own it. Honestly it’s just incredible. If you think our house is wacky you should see this place. It’s vast. Right on Commercial road. We had a table by a massive window looking right down towards Spitalfields. It was full of the most incredibly hip people. The decoration is just out of this world: like, imagine funny old nursery wallpaper with cartoon giraffes on; enormous, spooky old mirrors – on the ceiling; fantastic, huge, kind of draped, dusty chandeliers; one of the bars was padded, another had all these funky tiles on; in one room there’s a big, old, dark table with this gorgeous three-tiered light hanging above it; fab, gold vases from the 70s; those lamps in the shape of dogs, like a bull dog or a whippet with frilly shades perched on top…
ED. I’m watching this.
ME. And Trojan’s mum is just wild! Apparently they have another bar in Soho. She’s really nice and fun. Can’t wait for parents’ evening. They brought us a bottle of Champagne and these pretty little glasses, then we had some wine in a lovely old-fashioned ice-bucket…
ED. You know my friends are staying over tomorrow night don’t you. What are you making for dinner?
ME. Oh. I dunno Ed. Ratatouille.
ED. Ratatouille. We don’t want mushy French vegetables. Make Spaghetti Bolognaise please. Like a normal person.

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