Mystery Pub: Sky rockets in flight, Mystery Pub delight

It’s likely the best four-word sentence after, ‘I love you too.’ But it might be unsurpassed on a Friday at 5pm.

 

Of course I speak of, ‘Yes, it’s happy hour.’

 

Speaking to us the (responsible) server of drinks smiled and then we did too. What a marvellously imagined and wonderous abode was this world! Bursting with uncomplicated joys and happy whisperings.

 

And the clock had indeed struck five on Belair Road in Kingswood country. Claire requested a white wine while I went on beer holiday with a Pirate Life Pale Ale. We were in the Torrens Arms, home pub of my old footy club, The Unley Jets, which could be why despite my anonymity I was gifted a complimentary beer. Now I insert into this story the first in a series of outwardly random but thematically relevant song lyrics: My motto’s always been, ‘When it’s right, it’s right.’

 

Pulling into the carpark earlier, the tavern was snug and confident, a site of sanctuary, with its honeyed brickwork and pretty façade soaked in slanting autumnal light. Everything’s a little clearer in the light of day.

 

We scurried through the vacant dining room (too early even for fugitive Queensland pensioners) and arrived in the murmuring bar, ordered refreshment, and then decided where we’d drop anchor. Why wait until the middle of a cold, dark night?

 

With singlets stretched about truckers’ torsos and raucous toddlers and loud, unaware types, in this affluent suburb, beer gardens are instead known as courtyards. Likely lingering after lunch, some chaps occupy a neighbouring spot. Sunny weekend music coasts overhead. It’s a relaxed, alluring place and against the wall rests a bike and across the yard we see smears of vaguely green plants. In the outside dusk we claim a corner table.

 

Claire’s impressed and offered an affirming, ‘I could settle in here.’ I nod.

 

However, we hear grating traffic noise, and our ill-disciplined eyes stray onto the vampiric screens and their Fox Footy pre-game jabber.

 

To better explore the Torrens Arms, we later relocate to a secluded nook near the bistro. Easing into the lush chairs by the fetching gas fire, we catch the distant, hazy tones of ‘Afternoon Delight’ by The Starland Vocal Band and are serenaded by its soft-focus lyrics

 

Thinkin’ of you’s workin’ up my appetite
Lookin’ forward to a little afternoon delight
Rubbin’ sticks and stones together make the sparks ignite
And the thought of lovin’ you is gettin’ so excitin’

 

How did Simon Townsend allow it to be the (admittedly short-lived) theme song to ’80s kiddy favourite Wonder World. Imagine Woodrow’s disapproval at its doggy-style suggestibility! Still, Claire and I agree it’s a fine, old, nostalgic song, inspired by a ‘happy hour experience’ in Washington, DC.

 

Jettisoning the pub, I note a poster advertising their Mother’s Day paint ‘n’ sip event. Is this the new communal knitting or line-dancing or pottery? For Father’s Day will I endure an awful Change the Roo-Shootin’ Ute’s Oil ‘n’ Drink Rumbo Experience? It’s a shame as I started out this mornin’ feelin’ so polite.

 

Otherwise, edition #42 of Mystery Pub’s been a genteel, calming affair in many senses – a true afternoon delight.

 

 

 

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