Is this the time in the qotw when......
We all look around to see who's left to take home?
( girlinthehole, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 15:10, 8 replies)

I have one more at QOTW last orders.
I ordered a pint of lager in a pub in Scotland once, and the landlord called me a fucking poof.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 15:01, 4 replies)

Really my local, sadly now the brewery have plasticised it.
It was run by a grumpy old boy who had a parrot in the public bar. It would ring its bell 20 minutes before last orders, and if anyone it didn`t like stared at it it would indicate it didn`t like them verbally.

My folks were over, and it was sunday evening down the pub. In near silence in a conversation hole the parrot randomly shouted "wanker" ( the one word it spoke, also screamed at people it didn`t like)

Everyone started laughing and one girl had a fit of the giggles that turned into the dirtiest laugh you`ve ever heard.
Then someone shouted "Take her home she`s ready" and the laughter started up again.

Trust mum to lower the tone.
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 15:00, Reply)

Went for a carry out at definitely not my local
no shops or offys where we were working, but someone said they knew a bar that would sell you bottles. I get a cab, walk in, ask nicely and buy a box of primus. I buy a beer and get asked where I`m from, what brings me there, take the cab back with the urgent medical supplies to the lads.

Nothing unusual? it was a shebeen shack in DR Congo near the Ruandan border, the conversation took place in French and I was the only white guy.
The militia had their weapons stacked by the door. I remember hearing one say, he`s English, they are all mad(tappé=touched).
Got out in one piece.

I do not recommend the anti-malarial larium, as without it`s effects that would not have seemed sensible.
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 14:38, Reply)

Glory Hole
Went for a pub lunch with my mum and dad last summer in Northampton.

My mum came back from the toilets and proclaimed:

"Isn't it good! They've got one of those glory holes back there! Looks like there's plenty to eat!"

The pub fell silent. I tried to hide my face while attempting not to piss myself laughing.

It was at that moment I remembered a previous conversation I'd had with my mum ages ago. She'd pointed at the little serving hatch in this pub between the kitchen and the main pub area: "Ohh, that's clever - What's that called, Spanky?"

I replied: "Glory hole, mum."

And left it at that.

My mum doesn't go to alot of pubs...(But I imagine she'd be very welcome back at this particular establishment).
( SpankyHanky, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 14:27, 4 replies)

I love pubs
...absolutely adore them. I've worked in a couple as well, and have experienced many fine things that could not have happened any other place.

For example;

Once, in Edinburgh, myself and five of my Norwegian friends got a pub packed with locals to sing along to The Proclaimers' 500 miles - a song that is probably considered fairly naff even in its home town.

One time I was involved in an honest to God saloon brawl. (More a hole in the wall after hours club, actually). We were twenty or thirty people trying to beat each other up, and didn't stop until the barman actually fired a gun into the air. This was in Berlin.

And there was a great pub in southern Norway that I worked in several years ago, that decided to ban a very drunk and obnoxious farmer. He went home, got his tractor and rammed it through the plate glass window, luckily after closing time.

The most scary happening was in a wonderful pub in lovely Darlington (respatex and linoleum, you know) where I accidentally sat down at the wrong table. I've never felt as menaced by a group of female sixtysomethings in my entire life. I do think they tried to tell me that I was sat at their table, but I couldn't understand a single word they were saying, and quickly downed my pint (which was really nice, btw) and promptly exited. A close shave, methinks.

Pubs are terrific.
(sb1, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 14:13, Reply)

Woman's Bogs
Oh, go on, I might as well contribute.

OK, what's the worst thing you've ever witnessed in your life. Footballers suffering from broken and dislocated ankles, the train accident victim on rotten.com, people shitting on each other..... GOATSE!? None of that matches up to what I've witnessed.

Back in 2002, I used to work for a bar/restaurant in a little known place of West Pelton called The Jingling Gate. It was just before christmas, and the place was it's regular heaving self, catering for more people than it could actually hold, maybes 350-400 people. In particular, this night was probably one of the busiest, and it was near madness. The bar was fully staffed, with a queue nearly 6 deep all the way a long, chart and christmas classic blearing out, dancefloor bending and flexing (as per normal) under the weight of the heffers jiggling about on it.

As this night drew to a close, me and me mate Kev were asked to inspect the women's bogs to make sure it was in a copable state for the cleaners in the morning. I really don't know why were asked to this, but it was the first time, and definitely the last.

So, off we trot down past the reception and in to an empty female washroom... only to be presented with the worst smelling, and disgusting sight I have ever seen. Infact, the sight was so bad, it has stayed with me since.

As we walked through the door, every inch of the flooring was covered in bog roll (toilet paper), some of it clean, some of it shitty, some of it, well, bloody! 2 of the three mirrors were covering in puke. The hand dryer had a used, filled condom on top of it. A pile of pink puke in the corner gave off a violent stink, on closer inspection, a used tampon resided in the middle of it. Both bins were overturned, contents strewing across the floor.

At this point, we had not even ventured in to any of the cubicles. Feeling rather sick from the stench of the bog, we decided to vacate them for a breather, and to collect some air fresher and rubber gloves.

After 2 or 3 minutes, we decided to check the cubicles. Six in total, with one having an out of order sign on. We decided to check this on first, all was well, relatively clean, except for the broken seat. Unfortunately, door number 2 produced a shocker. Inside, it could only be described as someone went for a shit, and ended up with a "jetski". Still to this day, I'm not even sure how the mess was three foot above the toilet sistern. We left this one, and moved on to door number 3. Inside was also bad, but not quite as bad as number 2. Instead was yet another used, filled condom on the sistern, and the bog full of black shit... someone obviously on the Beamish Black that night. Vacating that door, number 4 had two bloodied fanny pads lying on the floor.

We didn't bother with the other 2 cubicles, at this point me and Kev decided we weren't paid enough to deal with this shit. And that's exactly what we told the boss.

After much protesting, and the boss actually witnessing this for himself, he backed down from his prior request to sort the bog, and said he'd pay the cleaner double as a sorry.


And that, fellow b3tans, is the single worst sight I have ever seen in my life.


Length? About 2 miles worth of bog roll.
(ShaunyBoi has been surviving fires since, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 14:11, 6 replies)

does pizza express count?
it sells alcohol!

just been there for lunch with colleagues. we had to go really early because they were fully booked - 2 tables of 20. now, i like pizza express well enough, but i don't understand why people queue down the street to get in there. anyway, my colleagues had 2 4 1 vouchers, so we decided to go really early to beat the 2 tables of 20.

and as we were about to tuck into our tasty pizzas, the two tables of 20 duly arrived. it was basically one table of 20 people with some sort of mental condition (ok, ok, they were tards), and one table of their carers.

it was a b3ta front page waiting to happen, if only i'd had a camera. 20 happy and excited joey deacons in their wheelchairs, clapping and shouting and singing and chucking menus and drinks and doughballs all over themselves and each other. the staff were beside themselves trying to control all these loud noisy mongs and hissing at the carers that nobody had told them what sort of guests to expect, without trying to sound prejudiced. they failed at that, btw.

it was fantastic, because the staff were rude snotty little bastards, and i'd take the reetees over the waitresses any day of the week!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 14:03, 7 replies)

Harley Bull
Anyone from the Chapeltown area of Sheffield (not the more dubious one in Leeds) will be familiar with the "Harley Bull"

A mad woman, sorry, care in the community, mentally challened person who lived down the road in nearby Harley (no idea where the bull bit came from), she was a nightmare to local publicans.

I used to work at one of her closest hostelries, the Norfolk Arms and the landlord would do anything to keep her out, mainly because she stank and shouted a lot.

She burst in one afternoon on a red hot day clutching a carrier bag and wearing her patented green coat (thick) with stains all over it and a wooly jumper.

"We're closed"

barks a landlord actually sprinting out of the restaurant followed by

"Don't no-one say anything to her!"

She countered by asking for a Guinness before being reminded several times that we had stopped serving.

"When was last orders?" she finally enquired

A glance at the clock revealed it to be 2:05pm on a Saturday afternoon

"2pm" replies landlord - "now out!"

To fill her time she then proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon stood over the road waving at passing cars. If anyone actually waved back she'd scream "fuck off!" and give them the fingers.

She also remained oblivious to the fact people were in and out of the 'closed' pub all day.


Additional - my dad actually had to go and do some work in the council house she shared with her sister. They had decorated the place with Heinz bean tin lables. They were just slapped all over the wall and they were quite proud of the look.
(fivetide, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 12:35, 1 reply)

A mate of mine was in the local
after having a few he needs to go to the loo.
He didn't want anyone to steal his drink so he puts a sign on it saying, "I spat in this beer, do not drink!"
After a few minutes he returns and there is another sign next to his beer saying, "So did I!"
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 12:32, 2 replies)

Naked in the club
I worked for several years in small, knackered nightclub that had delusions of grandeur purely because it was pretty much the only place open later than 12 in the town.

I was the cocky barman that knew it all purely because i could spin a bottle on my hand (that was actually it, I couldn’t throw it, catch it, roll it round my neck or anything good but if one handed spinning was your thing then I was the man)

It was the night before my 21st birthday and in return for getting my birthday night off work I had to work the night before which meant strictly speaking at midnight it was then my birthday.

Unfortunately this occurrence had got round to all of the staff (probably because I told them and anyone else that would listen) which meant at midnight the two biggest doorman working that night promptly walked onto the bar, literally lifted me up and carried me to the dance floor where some space was made in the throng of people.

At this point the DJ cut the music and announced that the 1st person to strip me naked would get a free bottle of bubbly (cider in a big bottle)

I was leapt upon

As my arms were pinned by the doorman I had absolutely no chance and soon 2 particularly determined women fought the others off and managed to get little Tommy out flapping in the air conditioning.

I returned to the bar with my trousers finally back up and my ego very much reduced although this was only a temporary state as a rather nice lady gave me her number immediately after. Obviously liked what she saw!

Randomly about a year later after I had started Uni 60 miles away I was chatting to someone who happened to describe the whole exact story to me. I just smiled and pretended I hadn’t heard of the club and yes that must have been pretty funny.
(groovytommy, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 11:19, 3 replies)

My mother and the dog
This story in question does not take place inside a pub, but just outside one, and as it's one of my mum's favourite "before you were born" stories to regale me with, I thought I'd let all of you lovely people enjoy it too :P

~~~~~~~~~~~~Wavy lines~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May I take you back to the summer of somewhere around 1981, where my mum and dad are out in their Nissan Sunny or whatever they owned back then (come on, I don't listen THAT closely!). My mum is driving but hasn't yet passed her driving test, so my dad is helpfully in the passenger seat being all supportive and coaching her (read, jumping at every available opportunity and waving his hands around instead of giving directions).

This is not a particularly unusual occurence, nor is it an unusual day. My dad instructs my mother to drive through a quiet village near where they live, which happens to contain a very nice quiet country pub. However on this day of all days, as my mum is about to drive past the pub a dog saunters out of the pub. This dog happens to look like it's had a few too many like the regulars sat outside - all of its legs were going in different directions and it had a distinctly glazed look.

This rather inebriated looking beast managed to co-ordinate all of its legs and somehow wander out into the road in front of my mum, who stopped to wait for it to move so she could continue driving. However this was not to be. This tipsy hound sat down in the middle of the road and stared at her. (At this point I should mention it's a narrow raod, so she couldn't just drive around it). "Honk the horn!" instructed my ever helpful father, and my mum obliged. However the mullered mutt continued to stare at the car and refuse to move. My mum decided to honk the horn again, by which time all of the regulars are staring. It is at this point the dog decides to saunter up to the car and place its head firmly on the bonnet and stare through the windscreen at my mum while my dad and all the regulars piss themselves.

Length? Every time she leaves the house she manages to attract all the weirdos in cars to her, so currently, 28 years :p
(Petite chien is going to do science to it, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 11:02, 3 replies)

Two condoms walking past a gay bar.
One turns to the other and says "Wanna go get shit faced?"
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:50, Reply)

Another Aberdeen Bar
This was my local on the way home from work, nice place full of suits. I had just had a pint when this seedy looking guy in his mid forties walks in with a stunning girl by his side.

Hooker, I catch his eye and he whispers to the girl she come over and sits beside me and he leaves. I bought her two drinks before I told her I wasn't the right guy. She actually laughed, I bought her another and left.

They turned that place into flats.
(nee22 NL ExPat, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:37, 2 replies)

I've just read MsChicken's lovely story about falling in love working behind the bar.
That never happened to me when I worked at a bar. But I did once find a turd in a pint pot. Fucking students.

Happy for her, though. Not bitter. Not bitter at all...
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:30, 3 replies)

A guy walks into a pub
and approaches the barman, "Can I have a pint of Less, please?"
"I'm sorry sir," the barman replies, looking slightly puzzled, "I've not come across that one before. Is it one of those european beers?"
"I've no idea," replies the guy, "The thing is, I went to see my doctor last week and he told me that I should drink less."
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:19, Reply)

Crap joke warning...
Guy tries to get into a club, the bouncer stops him at the door.

"Sorry mate, you need a tie to get in here".

So off he goes back to his car, grabs a set of jump leads and fastens then round his neck. He approaches the bouncer again. He sees the impromptu neck-wear arrangement and says

"OK, you can go in - but don't start anything."

At least I warned you beforehand.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:17, 2 replies)

Two fat blokes
walk into the pub and the first one says, "Your round."

"So are you" the second replies.
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 10:16, 1 reply)

A man goes into a pub
walks up to the bar and says

"I'll have a pint of adenosine triphosphate please"

"certainly, sir" says the barman "that'll be 80p"

/coathatscarfbiologyjokelicence
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 9:57, 7 replies)

A neutron goes into a pub
and asks the barman, "How much for a beer?"

"For you, no charge," the barman replies.

bindun?
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 9:06, Reply)

I could hardly piss straight with fear.
A man with three-quarters of an inch of brain had taken a dislike to me.

What have I done to offend him? I don't consciously offend big men like this.

And this one has a definite imbalance of hormone in him.

Get any more masculine than him, you'd have to live up a tree.

*reads from wall*

"I fuck arses." Who fucks arses?

Maybe he fucks arses.

Maybe he's written this in some moment of drunken sincerity?

I'm in considerable danger in here.

I must get out of here at once.
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 8:41, 20 replies)

Don't buy drugs from strange blokes in strange pubs
It was the first week back at Uni after the summer holidays, and we'd moved to a new part of town for that year. My flatmate and I wanted to buy some weed and our usual contacts weren't around, so we thought we'd try our luck in a suitably dodgy looking pub.

We purchased a couple of halfs of mild and started to case the joint, trying to see who looked a likely candidate to sell us a 'teenth. Very shortly, we were engaged in a transaction with the 7ft Rasta by the pooltable - he had offered to supply us with a quarter ounce of the very finest sensie money could buy. Result. Only been in town a couple of days and already got us a new main man. We duly handed over twenty quid and waited while he disappeared out the back door to get the gear from his car. We waited. We waited some more. Where had this guy got to? Had he been nicked? Had he got lost? The other guys in the bar were looking at us and sniggering. Fucksticks. We drained our drinks and left hastily. Fuck fuck fuck. Right, don't tell anyone, we'll just keep it a secret. Oh well, live and learn. It's grant money anyway, no matter.

That's not the funny thing though. Happens all the time, I'm sure. No, that's not the funny thing.

The funny thing was, right, a couple of days later, we went back into the same pub, gave the same bloke twenty quid and exactly the same thing happened.

It still comes up from time to time in my therapy sessions, twenty years later.
(se8card, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 7:46, 2 replies)

I don't care what Big Al says
The gun above the bar isn't loaded and dogs CAN look up.

Cheers,
Shaun
(Zutroy started without you, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 4:13, 3 replies)

Not very local
My friend A (for he may post here) and I spent last summer doing various exciting things in Spain.
In trying to desperately avoid 'irish' pubs and the like, we went in to a German pub.
With my highly limited German, we had fun times and found a place we felt truly accepted most evenings, regardless of the fact that I'm Russian and he's English.
Try some themed pubs on holiday other than the classics, you may be pleasantly surprised!
(Affero-Dolor made noodles using a cuppa soup on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 1:04, 5 replies)

My Local
I'm going to assume everyone here has seen the classic film 'Trainspotting'. My local is the locale wherein they filmed the classic 'bloke sparking someone with a glass' and 'toilet adventure' scenes.

We're proud of OUR local. They also don't let you sit in there without a drink, as I found out on Tuesday.
(Affero-Dolor made noodles using a cuppa soup on, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 0:53, 7 replies)

Nee22 below has reminded me..
..oh god how I've been tormented by this memory.

Every year from age 7 up until three years' ago I spent a week or longer, sometimes a month, at my parents' flat at a sleepy coastal resort on the Costa Brava. There was one bar within walking distance - the local campsite bar (it was a popular nudist destination with a major nudist spot being a mile down the beach, for added interest).

I grew up having my first alcoholic experiences as a result of this bar. It was pretty rough and ready but I grew up with much affection for it and the random pissed friends I made there in my teens. I just know that if I met them again by chance we'd be back to being best friends on a level that's rare in life - we grew up together with all that that entails, seeing each other year after year as the heady summer break from school.

So I'm 25. I'm sitting there nursing a San Miguel at 10pm with no friends this time - the other clientele aren't my old friends from old times this year; instead they're unknown and far too young and I stand out.

I'm a bit pissed from drinking red wine at a meal I've just been out for with my parents. Coupled with the marijuana I always know where to buy around here, my San Mig is going to my head and I'm feeling half elated, half melancholy as I revisit summer memories. I'm in a deep reverie.

Three dutch girls suddenly swarm around my table, in polyester hipster jeans and flimsy low-cut tops. Jesus, they are about 15, but jesus are they "fully developed". WTF is going on? After an awkward "er hello" "er hello" "er hello we are christina, rachel and simona" "right o" type exchange of "conversation" I get the biggest come-on line I've ever had in my life:

"please come to the beach and stick your penis in my friend christina's vagina" spoken in very broken English.

I declined. I declined repeatedly. I was pissed, confused and had a massive boner I couldn't control that must surely have been visible; but I still declined. I hadn't had sex in two years and this was mighty confusing. I had enough sense to point out that I was about 10 years older than them a few times. They wandered off to the beach taunting me for being uptight.

That really shocked me. I haven't been back since, except off-season with some friends to chill out far from the madding crowd.

The next morning I didn't know whether to feel like a complete pervert or whether to reprimand myself over a missed chance, which in turn led me to feel like a complete pervert.

I'm in no hurry to go back.
(raymond "three griddle pans" luxury yacht lovin' the christmas action, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 21:26, 15 replies)

"Oh I wanna be your Custard sliiiice!"
Many years ago my mate and his good lady moved to a villiage south of Leicester (No thats not the funny part). As part of our manly duties we sought out the pubs in the area for a place to escape.

One of the pubs we went into became a firm favourite. It was an old fashioned boozer. Nope none of that oak and fireplace crap for this place it was a place to drink. It even had the old fashinoed meat raffle and strange blokes asleep in the gents! We walked in and all the locals shifted nervously in their seats. We were being watched as we ordered our beery goodness.

By our second trip to this pub we were now "regulars". I think we must have been the first new customers in decade. But one night was extra special they had a live band on. The night wasn't too bad. I was trying not to get stabbed by the guy staring daggers at me because his girlfriend is locked to the side of me giving me the eye while my mate is pushing me in her direction.

Anyhoo this band weren't too bad but one like will stick burned forever in my memory. I tuned into what the singer was shouting when he then sang (Best read in gruff northern accent) "Oh I wanna be your Custard sliiiice!".

The local nutter at the pub near me pales into comparison (He mimed on the karaoke).

Face it you're envious of the length but remember its the girth that provides the mirth.
(YellowZed, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 20:58, Reply)

26th June 1996

The later stages of Euro 96 and England were in the semi final against their old enemy, Germany.
The previous games had been great and the whole pub was behind England we knew we could win. it was like one big happy family which was not the norm because the was a split between Villa fans and Blues fans who usually beat the crap out of each other.

After 90 mins the game is a draw and after extra time still no winning goal

Penalties.
It was all going well until Garth Southgate steps up to take his shot and misses.

I heard a shout of "FUCKING VILLA PLAYER"
the place just erupted, 30 seconds before is was one happy bunch, now it was warfare, Bottles, Glasses and Chairs were flying through the air.It was a mass brawl just like in an old cowboy film.
( Terry Oblong There's nobody here but us chickens on, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 20:52, 3 replies)