Spon Street

As a promise to myself more than anything else I decided to drag myself out of the house this evening and have a pint in the Town. I had also overslept this morning which is never a good thing at my age. Being quite warm tonight I had the chance  to sit outside 'The Old Windmill' and watch the world go by over my solitary pint of Old Rosie,
                          It was relatively quiet in Coventry tonight. The young ladies with their boyfriends struggled admirably up the road in their high heels. A road suitably scarred with the abandoned  equipment of the city council, eager to tear up the road surface to install their black hideous parking meters while claiming 'its good to park here?!'. Try telling this to the cab drivers struggling to turn around their cabs as they drop off their customers. There are almost as many fast food joints  as there are pubs now on 'Medieval Spon Street', a stones throw from a 14th century church which once held prisoners from the English civil war.. Some drunken old bird was hunting down the black guys around the corner from some sort of African club?, and teenagers passed me by barely sixteen, dressed as prostitutes with their partners in tow. Everybody seemed happy. Yet I still like the Windmill, it attracts an eclectic mix of people, and long may it live. As is often in life, places change, and what was my favorite street. is presently a bit of  a Shit Hole....