There's a pub near me where......
Discussion
'For every pint you order the barman will give you a free whiskey' said the Scottishman.
'That's nothing' said the Irishman, 'There's a pub in Dublin where you get all your beers bought for you all night, and then at the end of the night you can go up stairs and have sex with anyone you like'.
'Have you been to this pub?' asks the Englishman.
'No' replies the Irishman, 'but my sister has...'.
Now, jokes aside, I've been out for a few ales this evening, and in true Yorkshire fashion I 'appened upon wanting a few chips for me late supper.
So on the way to the chippy we think, 'Ahh go on then.... one more in Fraser's first eh?'. (Now, I should point out that Henry Fraser is the local undertaker, he also runs a bar, and used to run a little 'village-type' shop too).
So we pop in and well, what a welcome. The local Police Seargent looks like he's had a few, our pints are lined up, then the old fella nips off to the chipper and comes back with chips for everyone sat at the bar.
Marvelous!
Not only that, but you can get three bottles of wine for a straight 20Euro, in fact you can walk in there with nothing in your pockets and still get a few pints on a promise to settle the following day. (Essential service as the nearest ATM is 15 miles away!)
People still ask me why I don't live in London any more.
So, any good local pubs near you that really do perform above and beyond the call of duty?
'That's nothing' said the Irishman, 'There's a pub in Dublin where you get all your beers bought for you all night, and then at the end of the night you can go up stairs and have sex with anyone you like'.
'Have you been to this pub?' asks the Englishman.
'No' replies the Irishman, 'but my sister has...'.
Now, jokes aside, I've been out for a few ales this evening, and in true Yorkshire fashion I 'appened upon wanting a few chips for me late supper.
So on the way to the chippy we think, 'Ahh go on then.... one more in Fraser's first eh?'. (Now, I should point out that Henry Fraser is the local undertaker, he also runs a bar, and used to run a little 'village-type' shop too).
So we pop in and well, what a welcome. The local Police Seargent looks like he's had a few, our pints are lined up, then the old fella nips off to the chipper and comes back with chips for everyone sat at the bar.
Marvelous!
Not only that, but you can get three bottles of wine for a straight 20Euro, in fact you can walk in there with nothing in your pockets and still get a few pints on a promise to settle the following day. (Essential service as the nearest ATM is 15 miles away!)
People still ask me why I don't live in London any more.
So, any good local pubs near you that really do perform above and beyond the call of duty?
One that stays open as long as you are buying and the landlord likes you, and another that my mate runs so I can pretty much get whatever I like, including ordering food in and crashing upstairs if I am in a real state, not to mention free pool and a 24H licence.
There are a few other good ones away from the town centre as well. One small one in a village nearby once had our local Merc. dealer in who bought many drinks all night and then ordered everyone a kebab to celebrate his phone being drowned in a pint.
There are a few other good ones away from the town centre as well. One small one in a village nearby once had our local Merc. dealer in who bought many drinks all night and then ordered everyone a kebab to celebrate his phone being drowned in a pint.
Yes we have a pub called a Wed-their Spoon.. not quite the same, but like your pub, it does serve alcahol.
It has no license for music, so there isn't any. Instead you get racks of plasma tv's all tuned into complete crap with high blaring volume..
They serve fizzy cola look a likes which contain alcahol which is drunk by 14 year-olds trying to pass as 17 year olds.
There are door men - two off. Last time I was in there I witnessed one of them shouting 'come on then if you think you're 'ard enough' and pulling some innocent looking guy out by his ear and threw him onto the street.
They also serve 'real ale' - well thats what the lable says. It comes complete with real 'stuff' at the bottom too
There are food offers which seem quite reasonable until you actually try to order the one item that looks quite nice.. just to be told they have run out or that the chef is not in today and they can only do basic sandwiches. If you pick a hot item thats available, you receive your hair-infested frozen re-heat meal seved by Olga who doesn't speak any English and couldn't care either. Half your meal will be hot, the other cold. You are not a customer, you are a machine for emptying plates of food which in return will buy her tickets to go home at weekends.
Because the license runs till 1am, there is plenty of opportunity to watch the regular pub fights between Tracy and her boyfriend who drinks Stella, or the gang of 12 year olds that have somehow managed to sneak in to play the fruit machines.
If you fancy some lively company, why not take a stroll out the back to the smog-tank where the smokers go to have a chat and are more active and social than the rest of the pub in total? Veritable little party going on here if you smoke, and weed too depending on who is managing the bar.
There's enough time to run up a large bill on your debit card, and more charges if you use your credit card, but no lines of barman credit are opened. There is a sign behind the bar which says something like, "Dont ask for credit as a punch in the face often offends"
Going to have a pee is a good opportunity to buy some DVD's from a Chinese chap thats entire vocabulary consists of, "DVD - good qwality = £5" or the loud sniffing coming from cubicle 3 at the end. Don't even think about no2 because there is either no seat, no lock or no paper. After you wash your hands with the tap from hell, which turns itself off before you can wash off the soap, then end up shaking the water off under the dryer which doesn't actually dry anything, it just sounds like it does, you wipe the remainder on your trousers and walk out looking like you just wet yourself.. on the door before you leave is a picture frame with a load of check-boxes in it.. "Last checked by Joe at 17:55" Ah thanks Joe, I have no idea what you were checking but nice to know there is a system in place to keep you signing worthless pieces of paper. Then rinse and repeat all night.
'Time', if you last that long, is shouted by the doormen who then walk round each table asking you to, "Leave now, I won't tell you again" accompanied with a don't give a hoot attitude with no sense of customer skills whatsover..
If you happen to wander in there again you are completely ignored, and looked down upon for only ordering a pint of shandy with half lemonade in it because you are driving..
Large Chain Pubs.. remind me why they are still in business?
It has no license for music, so there isn't any. Instead you get racks of plasma tv's all tuned into complete crap with high blaring volume..
They serve fizzy cola look a likes which contain alcahol which is drunk by 14 year-olds trying to pass as 17 year olds.
There are door men - two off. Last time I was in there I witnessed one of them shouting 'come on then if you think you're 'ard enough' and pulling some innocent looking guy out by his ear and threw him onto the street.
They also serve 'real ale' - well thats what the lable says. It comes complete with real 'stuff' at the bottom too
There are food offers which seem quite reasonable until you actually try to order the one item that looks quite nice.. just to be told they have run out or that the chef is not in today and they can only do basic sandwiches. If you pick a hot item thats available, you receive your hair-infested frozen re-heat meal seved by Olga who doesn't speak any English and couldn't care either. Half your meal will be hot, the other cold. You are not a customer, you are a machine for emptying plates of food which in return will buy her tickets to go home at weekends.
Because the license runs till 1am, there is plenty of opportunity to watch the regular pub fights between Tracy and her boyfriend who drinks Stella, or the gang of 12 year olds that have somehow managed to sneak in to play the fruit machines.
If you fancy some lively company, why not take a stroll out the back to the smog-tank where the smokers go to have a chat and are more active and social than the rest of the pub in total? Veritable little party going on here if you smoke, and weed too depending on who is managing the bar.
There's enough time to run up a large bill on your debit card, and more charges if you use your credit card, but no lines of barman credit are opened. There is a sign behind the bar which says something like, "Dont ask for credit as a punch in the face often offends"
Going to have a pee is a good opportunity to buy some DVD's from a Chinese chap thats entire vocabulary consists of, "DVD - good qwality = £5" or the loud sniffing coming from cubicle 3 at the end. Don't even think about no2 because there is either no seat, no lock or no paper. After you wash your hands with the tap from hell, which turns itself off before you can wash off the soap, then end up shaking the water off under the dryer which doesn't actually dry anything, it just sounds like it does, you wipe the remainder on your trousers and walk out looking like you just wet yourself.. on the door before you leave is a picture frame with a load of check-boxes in it.. "Last checked by Joe at 17:55" Ah thanks Joe, I have no idea what you were checking but nice to know there is a system in place to keep you signing worthless pieces of paper. Then rinse and repeat all night.
'Time', if you last that long, is shouted by the doormen who then walk round each table asking you to, "Leave now, I won't tell you again" accompanied with a don't give a hoot attitude with no sense of customer skills whatsover..
If you happen to wander in there again you are completely ignored, and looked down upon for only ordering a pint of shandy with half lemonade in it because you are driving..
Large Chain Pubs.. remind me why they are still in business?
Local village pub where you find Etypes and Morris Minors without roof on a summer's eve...and the annual rough ramblers meet!! Where the Landlord will let you settle up at a later date if you've no cash.
I used to drink in a pub called 'The Case Is Altered' (late 80's/early 90's) where you poured your own measures in the kitchen then paid what you deemed correct...and played out of date scratch cards by the fireplace, upon which the Landlord and Lady, who must have been in her 80s and sported the most terrible hair piece, would still pay out.
Just found this info about it:
"In 1950 the Case is Altered was known as the pub with no bar. One explanation for the extraordinary name of the pub relates to a long dead landlord who put the beer "on the slate" for thirsty road-makers when the track up the hill was metalled. The slate was shelved when it could be seen that the road was nearly finished, and so "the case was altered"."
Alas it no longer exists.
I used to drink in a pub called 'The Case Is Altered' (late 80's/early 90's) where you poured your own measures in the kitchen then paid what you deemed correct...and played out of date scratch cards by the fireplace, upon which the Landlord and Lady, who must have been in her 80s and sported the most terrible hair piece, would still pay out.
Just found this info about it:
"In 1950 the Case is Altered was known as the pub with no bar. One explanation for the extraordinary name of the pub relates to a long dead landlord who put the beer "on the slate" for thirsty road-makers when the track up the hill was metalled. The slate was shelved when it could be seen that the road was nearly finished, and so "the case was altered"."
Alas it no longer exists.
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