…on a sunny Oxford morning.
Richy and I went to a pub quiz last Thursday with Juliet, her partner and some of their young mates. It was hilariously competitive and we rubbed along with a mix of patchy knowledge, a rare flash of genius and knowing fuck all. It ended, hours later, with a music round.
“Who did Bobbie Gentry write an ode to?”
“Oooh…” said Richy and I. “Yeah! Yeah! I know! That song, you know, the one about the bridge…Yeah! Billy or something!”