Pacing

They must be undergoing a crisis of some kind, they always are, we decide of those who come to join our table. – 'Never listen to us', W. says. 'We give bad advice, don't we?' Very bad, I agree. But still they listen. We must have the air of people in the know, I say to W. – 'We have the air of idiots', says W.

'We'll be in the bar', that's what we always tell them. 'That's where you can find us: the bar'. Constancy is always admired, we agree. People in crisis need to know where we are. We spend all day in the bar, which requires great stamina and pacing. We're calm drinkers, and full of amiability. There are only a few people we absolutely want to avoid.

'We'll be in the bar'. W. likes to ask questions of the people who join us, who are often tongue-tied and confused. – 'What's your favourite colour?', or 'Do you have any recurring dreams?' Sometimes he will ask, 'What's your favourite drink?', and tell them about Plymouth Gin. – 'You have to find the old bottle', he says. 'The new one's been redesigned'.

Then we give them more advice: 'The point is not even to try to engage'. Or, 'Give up now: that's our advice'. Or, 'There's no hope for you, you have to know that'. Then we buy them a drink, or get them to buy us one. Our table guests are invariably cheered. – 'See, it doesn't have to be so bad!' Hours pass in the bar. – 'The key is pacing', we tell them.