THE LOCAL DODGY PUB

Ruth and Rory and I had a planning meeting last night in a pub with sticky tables.

I've long held the belief that you can tell the quality of a pub by measuring its fruit-machine-to-chairs ratio. If that number is high, it's probable that the locals will glower at you over a grubby pint while their ropey dogs lap lager from an old ashtray on the patterned carpet. If low, or even zero, you might be alright.

There might be more than just that ratio though. Sticky tables, yes. I wondered whether some of my skin would be left behind if I moved my hands too quickly from the wooden surface. I also think there's something about 70s artex type wallpaper, the massive blaring sports channel and the hovering smell of smoke that somehow still lingers, ten years after the smoking ban.

"Right, let's think about those eight points," I said, getting up, "I need to use the bathroom."

And so I did. I squeaked open the heavy wooden 'Gentlemen' door and was greeted by an apocalypse probably fit for, and created by, anything but 'gentle men'.

A dirty, wet floor reflected the single bulb that hung precariously from the ceiling. A pool of ... let's say water... collected in the middle, like a lake, seeping suspiciously under the stained, porcelain urinals.

I held my breath.

I'm coming across snobbish, I suspect. I have no idea how difficult it would be to run a pub, especially one with an established culture. And because this is England, where villages and towns grew around churches and pubs for thousands of years, it turns out that almost every public house in all the land has a deeply-established culture, which has been tough to change. And however awful or up-market it might be, it's home and it's safety to someone somewhere.

We had a great planning meeting. If ever you're wondering whether it's better to sit down and work everything out on your own, or to throw ideas around in a team, I can tell you that doing it together is a lot better. It isn't easier but it is better.

The rain swept past the windows. The sky grew dark and the street lamps popped on. It was pretty miserable out there. I was suddenly glad for the warmth and friendly atmosphere of this local dodgy pub. I expect we'll be back for next time's planning meeting.

Though I am definitely going to go to the toilet before I get there.