a few wise words about "why you love your local"
I just read a column in fhm by Ben Smithurst and i found it really interesting and so true. We all have our local pub & bartenders and they keeps you coming back. Why is the question? Probably you will find your answer in this column he wrote.
The first time the bar staff at your local remember your beer of choice - even better, the first time they smile, greet you by name and pour one as you walk through the door - is a wonderful day. It is heartening and familial and, I suspect, slightly pathetic, like convincing yourself that the prostitute likes furry sex too. But, despite that, wonderful. Because anyone can choose a local. Really, the local has to choose you back. Which is why i love mine.
Deciding upon a local used to be easy: one ambled uphill from their house to the nearest corner. Women were restricted to the ladies bar; you chose between two beers (dark or lager) and, if you stepped out of the line, the publican would wallop you with a plank. Now, pubs have changed. Finding one to call your local is harder then ever. The best pubs have not been emasculated with polished boards and brass. They do not have TVs tuned to music max that blare Sheryl Crowe at ear-splitting levels. They do not serve cocktails - cocktails are for bars and smart trousers.
These pubs, Though, keep closing down. Their enemies are closure and being "discovered" by ironic fash morons in interesting hats and scarves-with-T-shirts. F__k their fleeting flirtations. Because they will never be chosen back.
Nor will they know the joy of being served without asking.
That was the column by Ben Smithurst.
I agree his with his way of seing things, all if it besides the cocktail part.
I thing that your local place should have a few descent cocktails or just have more knowledge then just pour up beers. But hey that's my wiew of it, what's your?
For life and the adventures ahead, Cheers!!
The first time the bar staff at your local remember your beer of choice - even better, the first time they smile, greet you by name and pour one as you walk through the door - is a wonderful day. It is heartening and familial and, I suspect, slightly pathetic, like convincing yourself that the prostitute likes furry sex too. But, despite that, wonderful. Because anyone can choose a local. Really, the local has to choose you back. Which is why i love mine.
Deciding upon a local used to be easy: one ambled uphill from their house to the nearest corner. Women were restricted to the ladies bar; you chose between two beers (dark or lager) and, if you stepped out of the line, the publican would wallop you with a plank. Now, pubs have changed. Finding one to call your local is harder then ever. The best pubs have not been emasculated with polished boards and brass. They do not have TVs tuned to music max that blare Sheryl Crowe at ear-splitting levels. They do not serve cocktails - cocktails are for bars and smart trousers.
These pubs, Though, keep closing down. Their enemies are closure and being "discovered" by ironic fash morons in interesting hats and scarves-with-T-shirts. F__k their fleeting flirtations. Because they will never be chosen back.
Nor will they know the joy of being served without asking.
That was the column by Ben Smithurst.
I agree his with his way of seing things, all if it besides the cocktail part.
I thing that your local place should have a few descent cocktails or just have more knowledge then just pour up beers. But hey that's my wiew of it, what's your?
For life and the adventures ahead, Cheers!!
Kommentarer
Trackback
