Friday, December 23, 2005


The Wayside Tavern does varying degrees of business for 11 months of the year, ranging from rather quiet to very brisk. Then cometh December, the month of Bacchanalian revelry.

Trade at the Wayside Tavern accelerates from merely brisk to downright frenetic. Liquor leaves the bottleshop faster than would a rocket sled on a greased railway line.

The pace is such that Mine Host & staff feel an anonymous kinship with Florists (St. Valentine's Day), Bookies (Melbourne Cup), Accountants (30th of June) & others who experience a once-a-year logarithmic burst in demand for their services.

This season of crass drunkeness may be known elsewhere as "Christmas", and has its origins in a religious festival. None of this non-alcoholic explanation stuff applies for the townspeople who surround the Wayside Tavern. Christmas is nothing more than the rapidly forgotten first word of a party invitation.

"Christmas Parties" abound, though Mine Host believes that "Spew-Fest" would be a more apt term.

1 comment:

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