Mr G’s been getting very twitchy of late. Something to do with the gaps in our home bar. So on Saturday, while Ms S wasn’t looking, he took himself off to the drinks Mecca that is Gerry’s on Old Compton Street to make things right.
Given a free reign to check the shelves, talk to the expert staff and stroke the myriad bottles on offer here is his idea of bliss – so much so, they let him wander behind the counter to see what takes his fancy. When he arrived home with his booty, Ms S wasn’t in the least bit surprised – just a little peeved he’d forgotten the milk…
