He was an odd man
but it was quite an odd pub. One of the regulars was an alcoholic lorry driver who'd converted to drinking rose because he calculated it was better value than the beer. He managed to do a deal with the pub to sell us some cut-price crisps to sell behind the bar, then it turned out he'd nicked them off the back of a lorry. He did a runner, and last we heard he was living in a caravan in Staffordshire.

There was also the chap we barred, who used to come in about once a week to check if he was still barred. Thing was, even if he got a new member of bar staff who didn't know that he was barred, he'd make a point of it: 'No - I think you better check with the landlady. I'm fairly sure I'm barred.'

Eventually, we decided to just unbar him, because it wasn't worth the trouble. He promptly pushed one of the regulars off a bar stool and then grabbed the barmaid's hands over the bar, and wouldn't let go.

I think he took a perverse pride in being barred from everywhere in town.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 21 Apr 2011, 15:15, Reply)