Last Saturday was set to be another action packed day so it was off to the Walsall Arms for opening at 10 with breakfast on my mind. I don’t have to order. Jodi knows the score. Full English, no tomato or mushrooms and tea with no sugar. All good.

There was a generic cooking show on the television. They were preparing a cauliflower dish. Cauliflower is my absolute Kryptonite. I’ve not thrown up in a pub since 1998 but my God this nearly triggered me. Jodi must have read my mind and asked if I wanted anything putting on. She further read my mind when I asked for a music channel and put on a modern rock one and we were treated to some right classics.

Breakfast was ace again and the music channel was tempting me to stay but I had to go as I was meeting my old mate Chris in Wolverhampton later on. I got home and it was shavey shavey time. Not my favourite part of the week to be honest. I put the plug in, turned the taps on and then decided that this was an ideal time to have a first practice at my upcoming birthday bash karaoke song. All my school reports used to say that I was easily distracted and it’s still the case. Next thing the sink was full and I was so grateful for the overflow outlet or I’d have had wet feet. I still wasn’t totally focused on the job in hand as I then tried to shave with the back of the razor. The song performance went well though.

The 529 was its usual infuriating self. Headphones should be mandatory on buses. As we got to The Merryboys junction I noticed an Audi with the number plate EVO5 CAR. Hmmm can’t be mine. Unless I become a famous writer I aint ever owning an Audi. When I was a kid my dream car was a white Renault 4, and I don’t think I’ve really moved on from that. More in my budget range though.

The toilets in Wolverhampton bus station were playing classical music which I wasn’t expecting. I briefly considered going into the cubicle and composing a movement of my own but I didn’t want to be last in the pub so I made it just a urinal visit.

The Posada was first. I ordered a HPA and the very friendly barmaid asked if I had a CAMRA card. I confirmed that I no longer do and I don’t know how we got onto it but by the time she had pulled my pint we had agreed to set up the Campaign For Real Wine. I know a few people that would get on board with this. If I don’t meet a lovely lady at a wine drinking organisation then it really is the time for me to become a monk.

Normally, with me being the wallflower that I am I’d go and sit in a quiet area with he least amount of people in the vicinity but as the barmaid was on great form and coming out with top lines (“if you’re offended, you’re in the wrong pub” was one to another customer) I stayed put and it was ace. Chris turned up, ordering a Spanish lager I’d never heard of which sounded like a Premier League assistant manager and we started the much needed catch up.

It’s fair to say that the last couple of years of the 90’s I wasn’t in a good place. I hated myself and life in general. Chris started at SciChem in 2001 and we hit it off straight away. Despite not working in the same part of the warehouse so only seeing each other at break times we were out for booze by the end of his second week. We soon became best friends and I make no secret that he was a major part in me turning my outlook on life around. He left in 2005 but we kept in touch and I was honoured to be one of the best men at his wedding in 2009.

The Posada is a must visit if you are in Wolverhampton and I could have happily stayed but Chris wasn’t out long and I had a shopping list of 4 pubs so we moved on to The Hogshead.

The Hogshead is class. I heard recently that it is up for sale and when that happens nowadays you never know what it’s future is. It was rammed with lots of people watching the England rugby match. There was only 1 unoccupied table but reserved for a Bottomless Brunch. We agreed to sit there unti the reservees (if that’s a word) turned up. They were already an hour late for their 2 hour slot. I threw in the caveat that if the bottomless brunch goodies started turning up, we’d partake just to be polite.

I talked in here of my thoughts re Valentines Day. I’m usually meh at this at the best of times as a perennially single man but over the last 6 months I’ve upped my attempts to find a lady so this one will hit a bit harder. I said to Chris “I want to fuck off, to a random pub, preferably not doing anything Valentines related and just sit there being miserable.” “You are good at that” was his response. He knows me well.

Somehow Chris had found out that 90’s singer Sophie B. Hawkins is playing an acoustic set in a Birmingham pub this Summer and we discussed this. “Do you want to go?” he asked. “Of course I do.” I replied. He investigated. “Shit. It’s £26 a ticket. I only know two of her songs.” I went all Ken Bruce and named the three that I know in 10 seconds. “Right Beside You” is an absolute classic and the favourite song of Warren Street, the main character in my two novels. I really need to do something with those. They aint paying for that Audi whilst they are sat on a broken pc in the loft.

We still agreed to go so Chris booked the tickets. “How much do I owe you?” I asked thinking booking fees and other bollocks would be added on. And no doubt dynamic pricing would have kicked in. “Nah, it’s on me.” Wow, cheers Chris. This like Hard-Fi at the intimate Irish Centre in Brum will be a deffo I was there night. We finished our drinks and moved on. The bottomless brunch folk hadn’t shown.

Next up was The Wheatsheaf. This is my favourite pub in the centre. Maiden visit was with Woza in 2010 and it was love at first pint. At the time the bus station was being redeveloped and the 529’s were picking up right accros the road from the front door. Despite this we missed the last 3. I say missed, this implies an attempt at catching them which there really wasn’t. The landlord had to call us a taxi in the end.

This time there was no entertainment as it was still early and a television behind me was showing Birmingham v Newcastle. Despite it’s close proximity I still missed the first 4 goals. We were deep in discussion. I was telling Chris about my attempts at finding a lady on Facebook Dating and e-harmony. He thought I said the army which would be a different type of dating I guess.

The final discussion in here was about the film Poor Things which we are both massive fans of. With time flying by I postponed my scheduled bus and we dashed to our final stop The Moon Under Water – Wolverhampton’s Wetherspoons. It was busy but we found a space at the bar. I still wasn’t done with discussing Poor Things and relayed the scene when a well spoken English bloke in a Victorian suit said “I’ll smash his fucking head in.” I must have emphasised this a bit too eagerly as a barmaid gave me a right look on saying this. I’d like to think that she went home that night and told everyone “we had a right hard bastard with a Walsall accent in today. Well hunky he was.”

As we walked away Chris said “I’d like to see you smash someones fucking head in wearing that” referencing my Craig David style white beanie hat. So I sang “I’ll smash his fucking head in” in a Craig David stylie. It were proper bo I tell thee.

Soon I noticed it was 7 minutes till bus departure time and wary that it would not be long before the departures go more infrequent so we supped up and both dashed downstairs to the loos and back. Despite time being against us I was still holding doors open for ladies, and stopping to let them pass. “You’re too polite” was Chris’s feedback. I made the bus though with 2 minutes to spare. Despite the rushed feel to it it was a good visit to the Spoons.

Stage 2 of the day was a rough plan. Meet Josh for a pint in Willenhall and he’d then drop me off at the Walsall Arms. Without an actual meet up arranged he announced via text that he was just going to take the kids home but would still take me to the pub. His timing was epic and he turned up right behind the bus I’d just got off. I got in to be confronted by a question. “Can you name a country beginning with the letter O?” “Yeah, Oman.” “Oh right. Can you name a football club begging with O?” “Yeah, Oxford United.” I had no idea what this game was but I was already liking it.

My mind started racing to potential further question. Colour begging with O? Yep got one. Cubed shaped meat extract product? Sorted. These never came neither did London Underground station past or present, I’d have gone for Ongar. Instead the game went to a name singers going round the car alphabetically. Josh and his kids came up with some I’d never heard of so when V landed on my lap I went for Vincent Furnier the real name of Alice Cooper.

Next up was animals which passed peacefully until I got U. I said urangutang. This was ruled out after a VAR check as it actually begins with an O. Oh well, spelling has never been my strong point as you’ve probably gathered by reading these blogs. I later found out that there isn’t a g at the end either when spell checking for this edition. We were now at the Walsall Arms and Josh nand co popped in for one which was ace.

I had a couple more pints, and Jaz the lovely landlady shouted us both a shot of Sambuca mmmmm that hit of Aniseed. Early contender for Song Of The Night was N-Trance “Set You Free” one of my absolute faves and I was delighted when it came on again about 20 minutes later. I was joined by John and Kimbo who had got back from Colchester but shortly afterwards I decided I’d had a enough and dashed round the corner to Danny’s Chicken before it closed. 3 ladies came in and asked for ice cram and were tured down. They then asked for milk shake and were turned down a second time so they walked out. They didn’t think to ask for chicken.

Anyway my chicken was great, I had a fantastic day, have an uxpected gig outing in the bagging area and I learned how to spell orangutan, which I’m sure will come in useful one day.