as a student
i used to spend my summers as a mild mannered letting agent by day, and a barmaid by night. one summer, i was working in a lovely cheshire country pub. i nearly fell over backwards when my boss' son, with whom i was totally in love, walked in with his mates.

"oh haiii," i breathed, leaning forward over the beer pump. only to be cut off by a red faced lardy lump of fire breathing doom.

so after they had been thrown straight back out again by an enraged manageress, she turned on me.

"do you KNOW them?"

"erm, not very well," i stammered.

"humph. barred for life," the dragon said. timidly, i enquired why, and she swept her hand around the pub. this is an old inn, with the bar split into 4 low, stone ceilinged rooms with real open fire places.

"last summer, i spent £500 filling them fireplaces with lovely dried flower arrangements. them lot came in and...." her bosom quivered, "said that a fireplace needs a fire. and burned my lovely flowers right up." she snorted in disgust.

i had to bend down to tie my shoelaces up pretty quickly after that!

we also served a lager that was so strong, there was a 2 pint per customer limit. yeah, that got adhered to faithfully...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 11 Feb 2009, 18:32, 1 reply)

Old Roger
The Swan in Winchester used to only sell the aforementioned ale in halves for the same reason.

Although to be fair it tasted so foul that really was quite sufficient.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 13:26, closed)