We chose a different pub for our weekly Sunday lunchtime drink yesterday. Instead of going to our regular haunts of the Old White Rose or the Black Eagle we went to the Great Western, a pub I haven't used since I went there for my father's wake. It's a nice pub with a friendly landlord and we had a good afternoon. There was one odd moment when my friend was at the bar. An elderly man from another table approached and asked me, "Are you Bob Hale's son?"
I confirmed that I am and he offered his condolences to me and we chatted for a few minutes about my father and what a great bloke he'd been. It was touching and moving and I was very happy and grateful that he had come over. The odd thing was that I don't recall ever having met him in my life and I have no idea how he knew me. I think I must have grown to look more like my father than I ever thought.
It was nice of him though, however he knew me.
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