When i used to drink (That really makes me sound like an old codger), pubs were pubs. Yes there were some poncy ones but most were pub pubs. You know the ones; The Pond House, The Red Lion, The Windsor Castle.
I loved them. They were magical places of hope, adventure and KP nuts. Of course none of them came to fruition as you were too busy getting pissed and talking bullshit but it all seemed so possible at the time. The pub was an adventure, a warm feeling of safety, bulletproof from the real world. A place to go and effectively escape from real life and actually doing anything. It was like the Tardis. The womb. You could be anything you wanted to be without actually having to bother doing it, especially after 5 pints of Lowenbrau. God i loved the pub.
You could smoke in them back then thank god. I mean there's a whole new generation of kids growing up in Oneils or Walkabout who can't nestle their 20 B&H on the bar next to an overflowing ashtray with several pints of lager and a couple of chasers. It's a rights of passage that has been sadly lost. How the hell do you get stuck into a big session without ultra smoking?
They have also got rid of the pool tables. Which is sad. That was my schooling. My education. Endless afternoons with Ben Keane bunking off school and playing the best of 25 frames in the Pond House, whilst nonchalantly supping pint after pint, listening to Jimmi Hendrix. Brilliant.
'Winner stays on'. The 50p's lined up on the table, the cigarette burning on the table edge, the fag burns in the cloth and that fucking wall that was always too tight to the table so you had to use the baby cue or bridge up high. Always happened on a crucial black. There was always a wall.Then of course the dreaded words for any pool playing pub drinker, 'Mixed doubles?' It would have been fine if they were talking about Brandy and Tequila, but it was invariably being forced to team up with a woman to give everyone a chance to play when she had about as much knowledge of pool as i did of women. (Things have changed in sobriety. I'm terrible at pool but excellent at women)
Then of course you get the pasting from an experienced pub pro, knocking your young cocksure arrogance from you. It was an education in life. You admired the old regulars who spent everyday in there. You wanted to be them. Thinking they were so wise and worldly. Only years later has that myth been smashed that they were just sad lonely alcoholics who had sod all else to do and their worldliness was all off the tellie. (and made up) - I Learnt the importance of looking like you know what your doing whilst not having a clue inside.
Then of course you had the jukebox, the pinball, dartboard and if you were really lucky 'meat Raffle'. They introduced the concept of the big screen TV for football sometime in the 90's, which was a double winner and of course to appease the intellectuals, newspapers. I used to spend hours trying to read the papers through blurred double vision trying to appear more sober and normal than i actually was. I mean if you're on your own in a pub reading the paper, your relaxing right, you're definately not an alcoholic?
Children were rarely seen in boozers back then and the only food on offer was nuts, scampi fries - which were a nightmare as they just made you smell like you've just been fingering the pub slag and corned beef rolls. The only thing Gastroessque was Prawn Cocktail Crisps. Of course as i got older food was introduced like roast dinners or anything else as long as it came with chips.
Pubs were a place for romance of course. Getting drunk then copping a feel up in the disabled toilet with piss all over the floor. Dreams were made. Chivalry was alive.
Then of course there was the holy grail. The words that made you weep with joy. The magic. The two simple words, 'lock in'. Oh my god, how special did you feel? Like you've made it. Joined the most exclusive VIP club. Curtains shut, music off, lightweights gone, doors locked clunk click, now it was just you and serious drinkers. You were here to drink there was no fucking about.Made it!
No happy hours, no Wicked or blue coloured drinks, no Jus, No theme nights or sauvignon blanc. No poncy bar snacks, no music. Just pure drinking. Just as i like it. Late night Lock in. Heaven.
Now of course pubs are non smoking, living room style places who serve burgers on wooden boards for fucks sake. They are either binge drinking playgrounds full of neon lights and braindead youths or middle class Gastropubs with chalkboards and children. Where did it go wrong?
I think i got out of drinking at the right time. If i was still at it I'd be A) bankrupt, i mean how do you afford 12 pints, 4 chasers, 3 rounds and a curry when it is £4.20 a pint?, B) barred, after venting my hatred for all things poncy whilst in blackout c)Arrested or D) A JD Wetherspoons regular. Parking my mobility scooter outside.
Getting arrested happened rather too often when i was drunk.I would Get chatty, get loud, get funny, get annoying, get arrogant, get lairy, get lippy, get punched, get barred, get arrested. That was generally the theme to my drinking towards the end. I never willingly left a pub. I had to be blacked out, kicked out or punched out.
I know the police get a good kicking and rightly so with national disgraces like the Hillsborough cover up, but to be fair they are great at filling in blackouts. "I called PC 368 a Pig C**t 45 times? Really. So sorry officer."
No i will leave the pub exactly as i remember it and am very pleased to have grown up in an era where smoking in pubs was almost mandatory. I'm just grateful i wasn't born 10 years earlier, as they had it hard back in the 70's and 80's. I mean pubs would shut at 2pm and not open until 7pm. Fuck me, what about the all dayer, a total pub classic. When you start early doors and just keep going until closing time. Feeling a sense of massive achievement.
And finally the ultimate. The true nature of the pub is the 'carry out', and pulling something out of the hat that truly made you feel special. The 'allnighter'. Oh god yes. When you're having such a good night, when tomorrow will never come and even if it does you don't give a shit.
"Yes, lets stay up, lets keep going. Fuck work, I'll call in sick. They'll understand. It's only my 16th sicky this year."
"Yes Nicky but it's only February"
You feel like the SaS of drinkers. The elite. Above the rest of the human race. Like you've won gold. You see everyone 'normal' going to work. Jogging, running even and you think 'why?'. A sense of superiority adorns you like a coat, until you hit the burn then the sense of superiority turns to crushing fear & paranoia. 'Oh fuck I'm going to get fired, I'll be skint, what have i done? Why did you make me do that 16th Tequila slammer?"
I know I'm being nostalgic. I know it wasn't all like that. I remember countless solo drinking sessions that ended in tears and misery. But i love the Great British Pub. It's dying out of course. In 30 years time you won't even have to go. Instead 'PUB' will be a Playstation 3 game. I'm pleased i had the best of them and all those nights out down them which i can't remember. Must have been a good night then eh?
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment