Then this young man with an unhealthy tan
puts a drink in my hand and says I understand
You're in search of a place to continue the chase
of the heavenly taste I suggest in that case
That you all come with me to my place by the sea
where the glasses shall be overflowing with free
alcoholic delights (and free love if you like)

My Sunday night started at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern and ended in a Shoreditch pub, by which time it wasn't Sunday night anymore but - oh! - 7am on Monday morning. Quite why I went to such a low-rent dive when I could have gone to LA3 around the corner is unclear now. Still, it did allow me to see their "what, officer? alcohol? no, of course not" policy which entails not serving beer. But spirits and mixers? No problem.