Do you dream about pubs, when sleeping?

[aleandhearty]

To answer my own question - yes! Usually, they're quite vague, following the theme of being in a bar with lots of pumps but not quite being able to see what they are, or discovering a great new pub, close to home, down some previously unknown side street.

Occasionally though, they're more fully formed. I recently had one about a (non-existent) pub called The Sun on a real street in Wakefield called The Springs. (As far as I know there has never been a pub on the site I imagined.) It had beautiful mustard yellow faience tiling on the frontage and in the entrance, plus ornate lettering above the door. Internally, it was low-ceilinged, with exposed beams, wooden floorboards and ornate balustrading. At the bar, there was one solitary hand pump*, just out of reach, forcing me to move round to try and see the clip. In doing so, I ended up climbing a staircase, which became a one way system, returning me to the street! For a few seconds when I woke up it seemed so real.

Anybody else?


*I suspect a Freudian analyst would have a field day with that one.

[Andy Ven]

When you're a teenage lad / young man it's quite normal to dream about sex. What happened to me too many times was that just as I was about to get really intimate, so to speak, with a young lady (often somebody who was completely imaginary rather than a girl I actually knew) my alarm clock would go off and wake me up and I would be thwarted. I sometimes tried to go back to sleep but it wouldn't happen, my chance had gone. I'm sure there was an element of mind and body clock working together and toying with me.

Anyway, not so young these days I had a dream only recently that I went into some mystery pub near a canal (mystery because it wasn't a pub I recognise from real life). It was a Saturday lunchtime and I entered through the back door with my wife in tow. She took a seat and I went to the bar. To my surprise they had Highgate MILD on (brewed locally but I don't see it on sale in enough outlets). I bought a MILD, a diet coke for my wife and a packet of crisps. I took the drinks back to the table where my wife was sitting, threw the crisps on the table and pulled up a stool. I picked up my pint of MILD and drew it towards my lips and BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Flippin' alarm clock!

And that's exactly how it happened.

Freud would say that it's an indication that I'm getting old when dreams about sex are replaced by dreams about Highgate MILD. (At least since I stopped playing football a year ago I don't wake up Mrs Ven so often by going in for the slide tackle, waking us both up as I kick her in the shins.)

[Soup Dragon]

Funny, i used to dream about MILD, now annoyingly, I dream of sex.

[aleandhearty]

What happened to me too many times was that just as I was about to get really intimate, so to speak, with a young lady (often somebody who was completely imaginary rather than a girl I actually knew) my alarm clock would go off and wake me up and I would be thwarted. I sometimes tried to go back to sleep but it wouldn't happen, my chance had gone.

I picked up my pint of MILD and drew it towards my lips and BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! Flippin' alarm clock!

:D The point about trying to go back to sleep really struck a chord. I think you need to change from an alarm clock to a clock radio, as the voices / music might give you a gentler transition back to reality, with time to finish things off!


Funny, i used to dream about MILD, now annoyingly, I dream of sex.

:D Surely the ideal dream would be you lying there in a post-coital glow, pint of MILD in hand, having built up a thirst. On second thoughts, sod waiting for the dream, why not try it on Saturday night?....;)

[Wittenden]

Not pubs so much, but individual beers:years back, when beer in London was rubbish, with the exception of Fuller Smith and Turner and Youngs (both incidentally hard to find then) I had a vivid dream about finding Fremlins in an unknown London pub. I also had a similar dream about Harveys having a tied pub in the smoke-they do now ,of course. Currently, I'm on a quest for Jaipur IPA from Thornbridge Hall, by night and by day. I've only ever seem it once, and it had run out. Dream about it quite often though.

[Soup Dragon]

post-coital glow

You see, i see that and think of Holden's Golden Glow. I am beyond help.

[Strongers]

I have this dream every now and again where i'm somewhere along way from home and the missus gives me a pass for the evening. I have a list of pubs that I really want to get to but I keep getting distracted and end up further and further away.

[Oggwyn Trench]

I sometimes have a weird dream about being in a pub that seems to be combination of two closed Shrewsbury pubs , the Market Vaults and the Plough , downstairs is the Vaults and upstairs the Plough , nothing really happens , have a few pints and go home :confused:

I delivered to a golf club last week and the barmaid in the bumhugger micro-skirt and thigh lenth boots is welcome in my dreams anytime:whistle::D

[Andy Ven]

Funny, i used to dream about MILD, now annoyingly, I dream of sex.

At least when you dream about MILD you wake up dry, even if you spill it ;)

[Quinno]

I delivered to a golf club last week and the barmaid in the bumhugger micro-skirt and thigh lenth boots is welcome in my dreams anytime:whistle::D

Hole in one?

[Soup Dragon]

I delivered to a golf club last week and the barmaid in the bumhugger micro-skirt and thigh lenth boots is welcome in my dreams anytime:whistle::D

And what MILD do they do?

[arwkrite]

I never dream about pubs which is probably why I wake up with a thirst ( despite what the Quack says ). Must admit it has been a while since I dreamt of a female however dressed. I stick with daydreams these days about women. The young ladies give me their time under the belief that I am harmless enough and I know most of the gossip. All I want for Christmas is a Flat Cap and a whippet.:pray:

[aleandhearty]

post-coital glow

You see, i see that and think of Holden's Golden Glow. I am beyond help.

It's funny, my wife sees that and thinks Marston Moor Brewer's Droop.


I suppose it was a little bit naive to assume that a thread with the word 'dream' in the title wouldn't have sex in it at some stage.

[Oggwyn Trench]

And what MILD do they do?

Ansells keg , shes serves it properly , good head :whistle:

[Andy Ven]

I suppose it was a little bit naive to assume that a thread with the word 'dream' in the title wouldn't have sex in it at some stage.

Sorry, I mis-read the thread title as 'Do you dream about pubes, when sleeping?' .......

:)

[Andy Ven]

Radio 5 Live are covering the Saturday afternoon action around the country but it’s not football commentators they are linking with, it’s Pubs Galore reviewers. Mark Pougatch is in the studio and Soup Dragon hears in his earpiece “We’re crossing now to North Bridge where Soup Dragon is covering the afternoon’s events at the Station Tavern”.

This is his moment to be the Stuart Hall of the PG Airwaves. He finishes his sip of MILD, mentally Googles his list of superlatives and draws breath.

“Mmmmm. Single roomed pub, Georgian style, with flocked wall paper and old railway paraphernalia. A little niche, a microcosm where the imported grit of the Black Country provides a foil for the softness of the Shropshire countryside.

In this theatre of real ale, a grand old lady of the Where Valley, the ephemeral clientele flowed with the comings and goings of the Great Western steamed hauled trains. The bar man, sublime and unflustered, floated effortlessy from handpull to handpull, orchestrating the delivery like a symphonic aficionado.

Batham’s, Hobson’s, Titanic MILD and the home grown Railway Porter, like nectar drawing the buzzing crowds, were subtly cultured, graceful ... celestial .... but stood firm and impregnable against the onslaught of the ubiquitous Carling and Strongbow big boys.

Superb. Sheer class. If I don’t come back here again it’s because I have died.”

[Blackthorn]

If I'd read this thread yesterday, I'd have said No, I never dream about pubs. But then spookily last night I did, even though I've only read this today.

I don't remember too much about it, but it started off well enough in a cosy country pub with a good range of beers, nether of which I recognised. But then it went downhill and seemed to introduce all the things that irritate me in pubs - I couldn't get to the bar due to various obstructions including a dog the size of a large wolf led on the floor, and then I was comprehensively ignored whilst all around me were served. When I did eventually get the attention of a barman and politely asked him if I was invisible, he explained that he was doing community service and only allowed to serve people he knew....

[aleandhearty]

Radio 5 Live are covering the Saturday afternoon action around the country but it’s not football commentators they are linking with, it’s Pubs Galore reviewers. Mark Pougatch is in the studio and Soup Dragon hears in his earpiece “We’re crossing now to North Bridge where Soup Dragon is covering the afternoon’s events at the Station Tavern”.

This is his moment to be the Stuart Hall of the PG Airwaves. He finishes his sip of MILD, mentally Googles his list of superlatives and draws breath.

“Mmmmm. Single roomed pub, Georgian style, with flocked wall paper and old railway paraphernalia. A little niche, a microcosm where the imported grit of the Black Country provides a foil for the softness of the Shropshire countryside.

In this theatre of real ale, a grand old lady of the Where Valley, the ephemeral clientele flowed with the comings and goings of the Great Western steamed hauled trains. The bar man, sublime and unflustered, floated effortlessy from handpull to handpull, orchestrating the delivery like a symphonic aficionado.

Batham’s, Hobson’s, Titanic MILD and the home grown Railway Porter, like nectar drawing the buzzing crowds, were subtly cultured, graceful ... celestial .... but stood firm and impregnable against the onslaught of the ubiquitous Carling and Strongbow big boys.

Superb. Sheer class. If I don’t come back here again it’s because I have died.”

:D That's brilliant, Andy.

[aleandhearty]

I don't remember too much about it, but it started off well enough in a cosy country pub with a good range of beers, nether of which I recognised. But then it went downhill and seemed to introduce all the things that irritate me in pubs - I couldn't get to the bar due to various obstructions including a dog the size of a large wolf led on the floor, and then I was comprehensively ignored whilst all around me were served. When I did eventually get the attention of a barman and politely asked him if I was invisible, he explained that he was doing community service and only allowed to serve people he knew....

Funny how they always seem to include an element of frustration, isn't it? Never total gratification!

[ROBCamra]

Funny how they always seem to include an element of frustration, isn't it? Never total gratification!

Saves you having to change the bedsheets though. :evilgrin:

[Andy Ven]

:D That's brilliant, Andy.

Cheers ! I could have gone on to say that, impressed by the prowess expressed through his vocabulary, a scantily clad babe enticed him to the living quarters upstairs and the dream turned really steamy and raunchy with thoughts of underwear dropping to the floor and nudity and frantic eroticism and unbridled passion ....... and then the alarm clock went off :)


Funny how they always seem to include an element of frustration, isn't it? Never total gratification!

There does seem to be a theme of fiction-but-familiarity, denial and the other one is guilt.

After thinking about this thread on Saturday evening I had another pub dream. I had popped out of work, stretching lunchtime hours somewhat because it was only 10.20am. For some reason I had gone to the cinema at the end of Broad Street in Birmingham (a mere 20 minute walk away) to buy some tickets for a showing (God knows why because I haven't been to the cinema in years). While I was there I thought I could pop into the City Tavern (http://www.pubsgalore.co.uk/pubs/37538/) for a quick pint of Highgate MILD. I had to enter via the fire escape, through the landlord's bedroom and across the yard into the bar (bizarre but muddled directions are often a feature of my dreams). This time I managed to drink the pint, just the one, but when I looked at the clock in the bar it was 2.40pm. My crafty errand during work time had gone way over time.

[AlanH]

Whenever I dream about pubs, the landlord wakes me up and kicks me out!:nishelypished:

[Soup Dragon]

a scantily clad babe enticed him to the living quarters upstairs

Oh God! not the ubiquitous scantily clad babe - and the living quarters will have sofas and twigs no doubt, as my dream turns into a nightmare