I went out running on my normal route on Sunday evening: up towards Wilford, hook back across the playing fields towards the river, and then across the Toll Bridge, along the Embankment up to Trent Bridge and then head back for home. About four miles in all.
Somewhere on this route, somewhere along Wilford Lane, I run past a Social Club. I have no idea what this club is or what you have to do to become a member. The only thing that I do know about this club is that - according to the sign that is always up just outside their driveway - it holds some sort of auction on a Monday night.
Normally I pay it no mind and just carry on past. Yesterday evening though, something caught my eye: there was a new poster stuck over the auction sign. It was a lurid fluorescent yellow, and written on it in bold, black letters was the following message:
THE TALANTED CHRIS AUSTIN!
As I ran past, I couldn't get this message out of my mind. Who was this Chris Austin? What was his special talant? Would to-night be my only opportunity to find out?
I was almost tempted.
But then I remembered I was a spelling and grammar nazi and I kept running.
Alcohol-Free Beers (Part Seventeen)
14 hours ago