On the way down we passed the Spotted Dog public house and remarked that it did not look like our type of venue. Shaved heads, tattoos, tracksuit bottoms and chunky gold chains do not make a positive fashion statement. And so it proved two hours later on our way back. The first sign of trouble was the
We crossed over the road but then crossed back when we saw this bloke lying in the gutter. Mary went to see if he was OK while I called 999. He was unconscious with blood pouring from a bottle cut on the back of his head. By the time I had given the dispatcher all the details two police cars had arrived and the "victim" was staggering up the road. So we left them to it and went home for a last glass of wine and bed.
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