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.
'And where he supped the past lived still. And where he sipped the glass brimmed full' John Barleycorn, Carol Ann Duffy.
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.”
Waes hael!
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....