The Gregson's Giants
These days, most pubs don’t have a giant.
The Gregson’s got two.
They’re 12 foot tall and very much in love.
He plays the double bass in the Jazz Group on Wednesday nights. Though the instrument looks more like a ukulele in his hairy giant arms. She dances the Lindy Hop on Thursdays in size 27 red shoes.
They met at Scrabble Club one wet Monday night. She got a triple word score for GARGANTUAN. He didn’t have enough Ms for MAMMOTH but she slipped him one under the table. When he tried spelling DATE, the tiny “D” tile slipped through his enormous fingers. He was still scrabbling around for it on the floor when she finished the game- spelling EXTENSIVE with a triple letter score on the X.
He was too shy to try again, and she was too old-fashioned to ask. One night, he attempted a cheerful nod across the bar but he just banged his head on the ceiling. She waved back but only managed to knock over someone’s pint.
Then, one busy Friday night in the Gregson, she ordered a flagon of tea and he ordered a bucket of Wainwright. The newest volunteer barman smiled at the pair of giants on either side of the counter and asked who’d like to pay. After several minutes of polite offers and shy smiles, the two giants took their drinks to a corner table and sat side-by-side all evening long.
Some pubs these days turn away giants. Others won’t serve anyone taller than 8 foot. But at the Gregson, everyone is welcome- no matter what size.
(There’s even talk of a Community Cross-Stitch Club for Local Giants starting up on Sunday afternoons in the upstairs room. All giants welcome!)