Comp. 3353 invited poems about ‘dining and dashing’ – thanks to Paul Freeman for the suggestion. There was a very large postbag/inbox full of delicious offerings and I am especially sorry not to have had room for W.J. Webster condemning the crime for its name alone: ‘it isn’t just pedantic/ To say its source is transatlantic’. Josephine Boyle deserves a mention for her payoff: ‘But all deceptions have a price:/I can’t eat anywhere good twice.’ The winners get £25 (a paid-for pub lunch for one?) each.
On honeymoon, in a greasy spoon
Where we contrived to fetch up,
The tea was sweet, but our feet were fleet –
We left only a smudge of ketchup –
When they bring the menu, that is when you
Plan in which course to exit:
We’re the Bonnie and Clyde of The Good Pub Guide
When the waiter least expects it.
A thorough trough, and we’re up and off
With our credit cards still intacta
We’re adrenaline junkies who love a bunk –
Though the moolah’s an added factor.
Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in