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27-08-2015, 13:35
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The*fifth*in an occasional series of guest posts by our etiquette expert R.M. Banks.
The chief difficulty*of the queue at the bar of a British pub is its utter invisibility.In most situations when put under stress, a body of my countrymen will revert to its natural form, viz. a neat line. In a public house, however, such a visible display of orderliness would have a dampening effect upon the pleasant melee, and is Not the Done Thing.
No, in the saloon of the Angler’s Rest, all things being well, a far superior arrangement prevails: each thirsty customer, like a bee in the hive,*automatically knows his or her place — possibly, like the bee, through the action of hormones, though I am not a biologist, and do not claim to know what motivates or moves a bee.
If there is some small confusion — ‘Who’s next?’ — it is generally put right through collaborative action: ‘This lady was here first, I believe,’ says the chap upon whom the bartender’s eye has erroneously alighted; or perhaps, in extreme cases: ‘It was Whisky Wendy, this gentleman in the baseball cap, then me, then Accordion Ted.’
In short, the queue exists, albeit ethereally, after the manner of the titular spheroid in a*Spot the Ball competition.
But there also exists, I regret to say, a certain type of tough egg, sharp of elbow, who feels no shame at wilfully ignoring the correct order of play. These loathsome blisters are of the sort*that, on a sinking ship, would force their way onto a lifeboat in front of a gang of soupy-eyed orphans, a party of nuns, and no doubt their own grandmothers.
Let us hear that cry again from the inattentive booby behind the counter: ‘Who’s next?’
Having waited these five minutes past with beatific smile, halo upturned but dimmed for indoor use, one opens one’s mouth and raises a hand but, before even a note can whistle through the pipes, some frightful blot who has only just slid up against the mahogany, like a vulture landing in the Sahara Desert, begins to place an order.
Generally, all one can do is sally forth with the hardest of stares, but I have, on occasion, made a stand, when suitably emboldened by a pint or two of the enlivening nectar:
‘Actually,’ I say, and really meaning it, ‘I was here first.’
(American readers may wish to know that this is as close as a British person gets to drawing a*six-gun, which I understand to be the common method of settling disputes in drinking parlours across the Atlantic.)
Such reckless behaviour can be effective — it carries the element of surprise, like a piece of shot in a mouthful of pigeon — but one must be firm, not shrill, as if one is training a puppy.
More often than not, the Pusher-In will wilt like moistened spaghetti, but this reaction is by no means certain. One’s*opponent might be of the combative sort and bend up his spirit to his full height, stretch the nostrils wide, &c., meaning that, still thirsty, one has little*choice but to hoof it.
What’s more,*the barkeep, who holds your fate in his prune-like fingertips, might*resent the implication of shoddy workmanship and, with bruised feelings and moistened eye, make certain you are served out of turn for the rest of the evening.
Far better, I should say, is to follow the Japanese philosophy (Or is it French? I forget.) which says that, over the course of a lifetime, the books have a way of balancing themselves. The queue jumper, as Americans say, will ‘get his’. (Yes, I’m certain this time…*Unless it’s the Australians?) That is to say, someone will leapfrog him on the waiting list for a new kidney, or some such.*Meanwhile, as a cosmic reward for your forbearance, you are almost certain to find a fiver stuck to the sole of the left brogue or, even better, to encounter one of those rare gems of the human race who will say:
‘I’m ordering a big round — you go first if you’re just getting a pint.’
Modern Pubmanship, Part 5: The Invisible Queue (http://boakandbailey.com/2015/08/modern-pubmanship-part-5-the-invisible-queue/) from Boak & Bailey's Beer Blog - Over-thinking beer, pubs and the meaning of craft since 2007 (http://boakandbailey.com)


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