Gerald's Bar is quite the institution in Carlton. It received much attention last year, and with good reason. It is the best bar ever. I won't list all of Gerald's many attributes, those that know it, don't need convincing of its greatness, and those that don't know of it, well, we probably don't want you there anyway.
I have spent many an evening sipping wine with the friendly staff and great friends. Although there is one particular night that comes to mind when I think of Gerald's.
Now, I don't often stay there until closing (a very respectable 11 pm) except for this one night. A friend and I were running our mouths of with catch-up gossip when we noticed an ominous silence had descended. Usually, Gerald's music cannot be faulted - it's one of the things I'd have put on the many attributes list had I made it - but suddenly, nothing was playing. I looked at my watch and noticed it was very close to eleven. The bar was quite crowded but no one looked to be moving. I felt sorry for the bar staff. It must be very difficult to clear out such a beloved watering hole. I know that when guests have overstayed their welcome at my place, I tend to get slightly cranky.
But Gerald's Bar comes equipped with professional staff. They know how to deal with a problem such as this. After a considerable pause in music (just long enough for people to actually notice that no music was playing) the soft, haunting strings of The Godfather theme started to play. I then noticed the lighting seemed a little darker, the faces of my fellow patrons seemed a little more sinister. My palms felt clammy as I considered the possibility that someone in the bar had a hit on them. I told my friend it was time to leave. I think most other people at Gerald's followed our cue.
As we walked quickly home, I stopped, looked back and said 'Bravo Gerald, bravo.' They know how to make sure closing time is exactly that.
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