Walking into dodgy pubs – etiquette?

Once you’re through the door, and all the local, feral, unemployed inbreds turn to stare at you, you’re kind of committed aren’t you? You can’t turn round and walk out really, can you? They’ll smell weakness. You have to carry on striding purposefully to the bar and confidently order a pint, don’t you?

If I keep this performance up, I may even make it out of here without getting glassed!

As long as you don’t mention the pentagram on the wall, it will be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?

just tell them you’re a middle class cyclist with ideas above his station.. I’m sure they’ll understand.

Who’s to say they’re not generic office people who’ve taken the week off for half term ?

Just ask yourself, “what would Begbie do” and act accordingly.

Everyday occurrence in the Weedge! You get used to it.

Stab in the dark. Are you in Salford?

Sorry. Should I not have used the word stab?

Straight up to the bar and ask for a bacardi & coke. Isn’t that what you and Hora normally do? 🙂

I try and avoid ones with a long list of ‘live matches’ scrawled on a rotten A-board!

Hmm, my first rule of pubs is; Never enter a flat roofed pump!
This has served me well over the years.

‘perfumed ponce’

They’re not all bad Jeff – this one’s a cracker 🙂

Used to be my local, that, Bregante. Salford 6 I can deal with. I’m in Rawtenstall. It’s more of a ‘Deliverence’ type of scary! 😯

if you have tapped this out on your eye wateringly expensive fondleslab while peering around, i suspect you are currently resting your chin on the urinal with your pockets freed from the weight of your cash and cards.

once you are through the door, crack on.

would you rather be the roughest person in the nice pub, or the nicest person in the rough pub.

Don’t forget the “heart condition I may die” get out clause.

Hmm, my first rule of pubs is; Never enter a flat roofed pump!
This has served me well over the years.

This has also served me well.

Well, not the pump bit, that’s just odd.

birky beat me to it

Used to be my local, that, Bregante. Salford 6 I can deal with. I’m in Rawtenstall. It’s more of a ‘Deliverence’ type of scary!

You made me miss. I’ve never missed that board before.

Hmm, my first rule of pubs is; Never enter a flat roofed pump!
This has served me well over the years.

This one is a particular favourite

Never ever had a problem because I’m quite a grey character/I blend in and that included walking into a ragga club in Brixton near midnight and dancing our socks off- we got laughed at etc.

They can also smell that I have no money on me so not worth mugging 😀

This has also served me well.

Well, not the pump bit, that’s just odd.

Ah, typing tourettes. I am in the pump business so I blame muscle memory on the keyboard.

They can also smell that I have no money on me

It’s not the smell, it’s your hard faced refusal to get a round in.

This used to be the pub nearest my work, had a leaving do there.

The flat roof pub thing is interesting, it is generally a good rule of thumb. Glasgow has a lot of these, apparently they’re a hang over from when they demolished a lot of the old housing but weren’t allowed to demolish the pubs which were often the ground floor. So they’ve ended up as free standing remnants of the old area. The Stanley Bar has a few old boys who still drank there as it used to be their local before all the houses in area got demolished.

Well I made it out alive! And un-bummed! Literally and metaphorically!

£2.60 for a pint of Kronenberg! Difficult to see how they could do it and still finance the elaborate decor

ask for a soy flat white and the wifi password

It’s not the smell, it’s your hard faced refusal to get a round in.

When I’m mugged I find I’ve got magically got the thieves money in my pocket.

Ask if they do Tapas

Can’t have been that bad binners if it was selling kronenberg and not Tennents Super.

The flat roof thing is generally a good guide around more rural areas like North Wilts, as they’re almost inevitably cheerless, soulless places built in the 60’s for new housing estates, and characterised by large TV screens featuring ‘Sky Sports all day’, gassy lager, and bar snacks.
Oddly enough, three that spring to mind locally all have bird names, The Kingfisher in Chippenham, The Mallard in Lyneham, and the Jenny Wren in Calne.
The ‘Fisher isn’t too bad, really, but it’s still a bit soulless, due to the 60’s architecture.

The marketing agency behind this one is a real winner!

Which pub?
Struggling to think of a proper rough ‘en in Rawtenstall.
I knew Rammy would send you soft – poncy, middle class excuse for a hilltown.

If you want true terror, try Hassie.

woody2000 – where is that?

@Jef Wachowchow
I am in the pump business….

Sniggers

Years ago, I working away on site. Went out with a mate looking for a local watering hole after work, and tripped over something that looked suitable. I want to say it was The Angel in Dudley, but a quick Google shows a building (now a charity shop) which doesn’t fit with my memory.

Anyway. We spied this place. Dark green wood panels outside, grimy windows, looked like a rock / biker bar type place. Thought “that’s for us.”

Went in, and it all went a bit Slaughtered Lamb. We’d been offered drugs twice before we’d even made it to the bar. At which point, Binners’ quandary hits. Do we turn and leg it, risking a “situation”, or do we just act nonchalant, have a pint and leave intact?

We decided on “easy, Trigger.” We ordered the beer, and settled in for a swift one. They had the Lethal Weapon 2 pinball table in there, and in a pique of madness I thought that’d help with the normality so we went to have a game. All the while a succession of punters approached us offering various things; drugs, car stereos, women… I think at some point someone just openly asked “well, what do you want then?” We smiled and waved and explained “no thank you kind sir, we’re just here for a pint.” We hiss to each other to drink up, quickly but not too quickly as to look suspicious. And who knows what might happen if we left beer.

Then somewhere at the back of the pub, someone shouted, “lock the doors!”

We exchanged a glance, then as one well-oiled machine we did our best Rincewind impressions. We’d have outpaced Usain Bolt across that room to the exits. The last thing I heard as we took flight was that pinball table, forever burned in my brain now is Joe bloody Pesci going “what Leo wants, Leo Getz!”

Moral here is, trying to blend in is admirable, but sometimes cutting and running like hell is your best course of action.

You have to carry on striding purposefully to the bar and confidently order a pint, don’t you?

Correct.

You won’t see any sportsmen or women in here,but quite a bit of boxing.

The rougher the pub, the more scottish I am.

A small Creme de Menthe please. Would you mind if we have Sky Arts on instead of the rugby?

Sorry I read that as pup 🙂

i have never had a problem walking into any kind of boozer. i tend to fit in quite well.

This thread reminds me of a time when I walked into Newton Abbot’s finest ” cider bar ” where you literally think you’ve just stepped onto a pirate ship.

I casually ordered two steak and ale pies and two pints of strong cider and was presented with a plank of wood to perch on which was all very basic but man that pint and pie did the job!
I actually quite liked ths experience as a teenager as it felt ” proper jobby ” in a historic kindaway.

If I went further south and found this place then inbreds would deffo be found.

Tbh I can’t stand going to my local nowadays or in past as it’s unfortunately full of inbreaded toffs and rich so called ” farmers “.

So I have now found a great ph on the canal with great scenery and countryside walks whilst topping up on black dragon cider ( is a must try ).

Rev James is a really good cask ale but I have to go into town to get it. Sigh lol

Other than that I usually pick up some Stella on route back from work, mmmmmm lovely jubbly.