It was erm, "interesting" working there.
When the place got raided by the Rozzers (every 3 months or so) there was gear strewn all over the place. Bizarrely, they never brought a dog in, so never found anything, just nicked who-ever they had been watching,and left.
These raids were generally preceded by a large coloured gentleman striding straight up to the bar and thrusting a huge brick of hash, along with a bag full of wraps of godknowswhat, into my arms, saying "Here man, look after that", whilst behind him Plod charged in through the door.
What could I do? That's right, shove it under the bar and pray that no-one came to look there.
Typical raid dialogue:
PC 1 : You, sunshine, this is a raid, here's the warrant, please turn all the lights on, it's like the Black Hole of Calcutta in here.
Me : Um, they are all on.
PC 1 : Are you trying to be clever? I'll be putting this in my report.
Clientele : FUCK OFF PIGS (whilst throwing bottles and turning tables over)
PC 1 : Jesus, is this normal behaviour?
Me : You know who drinks in here, you know what they are like.
PC 1 : Righto, well, be warned, this is unacceptable, going in my report etc etc. We'll be back. Come on lads, there's an untaxed car across town, let's go.

Ah, happy days.
(Rsoles, Tue 17 Feb 2009, 21:48, 1 reply)

haha bloody hell. which pub was that, if i dare ask
don't think i'll be going there for a pint any time soon!

had a friend who was at the fridge nightclub in brixton when it got raided a couple of years ago. he said about 5 seconds after the police burst through the doors he was literally up to his knees in a sea of dropped drugs
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Wed 18 Feb 2009, 9:34, closed)