‘You want old bores, go to the pub’
Thaddeus of Edessa
The Crutch, Charlie Trotman.
How about an evening amid strewn packets of scampi fries, cheap suits and the occasional dog? Listening to someone find opportunities to talk about themselves, while you wear the expression of a docile garden gnome? We could have built Buddhist temples, we could have mimicked the bars of Barcelona and put a bit more effort in; but no, the great British invention is The Pub.
No matter how we try, we just don’t seem to be able to shake it off; the general Groundhog Day facades and Wetherspoons carpets. I’m not talking about the kind of boozers full of wasabi peas and tacky shit; Don’t get me started on those ‘smugstitutions’ either.
I’m talking about the places where the owner drinks more than you and the 1960’s never seemed to happen. Where anything that isn’t brown is considered girly and the aged go to die.
Pubs used to be sites of great political power, unfortunately; the biggest thing politically that has happened in a pub is ‘The Beer Hall Putsch’ of 1923, in which somebody called Adolf Hitler decided to mince around to get people to listen to him:
‘When Hitler did return to the main hall, it was in such disarray that he fired a shot from his pistol into the ceiling and threatened to put a machine gun in a gallery if the people in the hall did not settle so that they could hear him.’
Sound familiar? Hitler, the classical pub bore, wished to install a machine gun to get people to listen to him. Curiously, they soon began to listen and agree. Presumably the same landlord of the Munich Beer Hall went on to open up Wetherspoons and Britain has now thrived with similarly aloof Fascists, armed with a purple UKIP banner and a copy of the Daily Mail. Easy targets sure, but definitely not as easy to look at.
The second greatest political event to happen to The Pub was the Craft Beer Revolution, which was only slightly less bloated than Stalin himself. Suddenly, another loathsome creature emerged in the beer bars, this creature didn’t so much have a story, but they did have a tasty beer, this was The Beer Bore.
The Beer Bore is typically male, loves Beer and has very little interest in what you have to say, but god does he know a thing or twelve about Cascade Hops. His girlfriend typically stands like a shiny faced pawn among the spiky, leather handbag types; They tend to be vegan, but they aren’t adverse to getting pissed and forgetting about it.
If you buy them some nuts, you’ll undoubtably bought the wrong kind. Like all young, hip vegans; supporting the suffering caused by the purchase of drugs is perfectly fine, as long as you put a Sweet Potato in, If you don’t have one in the oven, just pretend you intend to or that you are fasting; it’s the only thing more cool than being a Vegan is deliberately not enjoying yourself.
If you are going to partake in the Pub ; It’s important to know how to match the person you are drinking with, always look interested, always act like you aren’t there to simply get pissed, be sure to always be on the same level; lest the parasite decide they want to suddenly talk about the Beat Generation; some people can knock it back; some people are so malnourished that a night out with them is like a William Hogarth’s Gin Lane.
Then they might try and hide their malnourishment with Fascism…again…
They knock back a few dodgy vodkas and then it’s onto the Dive clubs, full of sketchy types who were probably also in the pub. The important thing to remember is that if you aren’t on the same level, you will either be not drunk enough to deal with them; or too drunk to care. Smoking is now a no go zone, even though it shortens your time in the pub; you might get a bit of schtick, but it’s definitely cooler to vape.
Photographs in the pub are always lame, unless you are commenting specifically on your drinking problem or trying to appear a little out of control, eating in the pub is a sin; beyond a few handfuls of KP peanuts, alcohol is the food on the pub, Fish and Chips might be on the menu, but you have to wait specifically until the end of the night, when all you can taste is Desperados.
Gigs on the other hand, are almost one the saving graces of being in the pub; it’s probably the only thing separating them from an episode of Eastenders. Usually it’s a cover band, sometimes it’s something eclectic, even vaguely listenable that you’ll never find the time to jot down; eventually the band will be living in the pub with you, so get to know these people, they beat your family; who are essentially evolved out of the pub bore, this is an exact science as nobody would get pregnant without the pub. Not even the old men drinking Guinness.
If you get bored of the music or playing Sigmund Freud for all your friends, then it’s definitely time to start trying to get on the person you were least likely to have hooked up with that very morning; this requires a certain tenacity and lack of respect for the values of your existing friendship.
Be warned, you’ll definitely come up in a pub quiz if you head down the Sex route; You’ll ultimately last longer after a few; but be warned you might not get off. If you are ugly, another good thing involving balls is pool; pool is the national sport of one-upmanship; You could be Oscar Wilde and nobody would find you cutting if you can’t hit in a few reds.
So there we have it; go to the pub and take my advice; you’ll glide through the quiz and you might even enjoy yourself; Remember; this is the good olde nation of Pub Bores; you cannot escape this; it might be written as an almanac; but it’s more of a rule book; Look on my works, ye Mighty and despair! I think that’s worth about 20 points on the quiz?
Cheers to that.