I could get used to this

So as I alluded to in a previous post I spent yesterday afternoon and evening out with an old University friend, 4 hours of which was spent in the rarified environment of a Gentlemen's Club. The club was of the Philleas Fogg variety and not a Minty Rhino.

It was an incredible insight into days gone by. I was greeted at the door by a servant who then showed me to a large day room filled with old red leather sofas and arm chairs. People were sat around reading the paper or dozing. There was more than one Roly Birkin on show.

Then my friend arrived and he showed me around. The central atrium has a mosaic floor, marble columns and large portraits and busts of Victorian notables all around the oak pannelled walls. A 1st floor mezzanine provides a wonderful view, and above is a glass vaulted roof.

We went into the dining room and for the first time in my life felt pampered by servants. The menu I was presented with had no prices on. Apparently it is deemed vulgar for guests to see such things so only my friend knew how much things were going to cost. The wine cost £44 for a bottle, but that was at wholesale cost price - a members' benefit. In a restaurant just around the corner the same bottle would have been £200+.

The food was very nice and afterwards we moved upstairs for a couple of games of snooker. Neither of us were particularly good, but playing there, smoking a havana cigar, hmmm it felt good.

Afterwards we left and went to a pub where much ales was consumed. Eventually I hopped on a train to go home, and in the words of Samuel Pepys: "and so to bed".

Unfrtunately the worst part of the ageing process hit me today. I can still drink like I used to. When my drinking boots are on I can consume vast quantities. However, I no longer wake up fresh faced in the morning. As I write it is nearly lunchtime and I still feel a bit worse for wear. Even 5 years ago I would have been as fresh as a daisy.