A follow up on my previous post (and the whole point - missed/not fathomed by some).

Here's a bit from Nick Hornby's The Complete Polysyllabic Spree (do read it). He's writing on his experience of reading Dennis Lehane's Prayers for Rain. But that's not the point (not for this post, at least).

Sometimes, when you walk into a pub in the center of town mid-evening, you get the feeling that you’ve missed the moment: all the after-work drinkers have gone home, and the late night drinkers haven’t arrived, and there are empty glasses lying around (and the ashtrays are full, if you’re drinking in a civilized country), and you didn’t make any of the mess…

P.S. Nick Horby makes a walk-on appearance in Sarah Vowell’s Assassination Vacation as a smoker from London called Nick.