A couple of weeks ago I was invited to a potluck at Dr. O’Neill’s house, to which we were also encouraged to bring a bomber of Pale Ale for a blind taste test. Little did I know that my liquor store paper bag would be of a different colour from the others, and that some people can’t follow instructions very well..
Last month I took the ferry from Victoria to Vancouver to spend a weekend with some family and friends. On Friday night I dined at the Flying Beaver in Richmond with my grandmother, and on Saturday I romped about the lower mainland with my great uncle. We had lunch at the Vancouver Lawn Tennis Club, perused his amazing jazz record collection, watched horse racing with a friend of his near the border at the Derby Bar (where I consumed three Budweiser’s- an appropriate atmosphere), and finished off the day with a mucho grande Italian feast at Nick’s Spaghetti House on Commercial. I was rather full. Then on Sunday afternoon, after some record shopping, I prepared to meet up with some friends for a few drinks.