Don't Touch the Nuts E-Book

Daniel Ford

• Herausgeber: IMM Lifestyle Books
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 109

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2010

Beschreibung

Whether it's the seat that's always saved for the local Old Boy, the decor that looks like it's been bought in a job lot from the 'heavy dark red fabric' shop, or the quiz team who insist on calling themselves 'Norfolk in Chance' for the hundredth time, British pubs follow a set of bizarre and baffling rules that are second nature to most pub fans but confuse the hell out of tourists. Former "GQ" editor and pub aficionado Daniel Ford casts a light on these hidden rules and answers such questions as: Do all real ale drinkers have to sport beards? Why has every country pub had at least one king, queen or ghost stay there? Is half a shandy ever an acceptable drink? Why shouldn't you stand in the middle space of an empty pub urinal? If you win three quid in the quiz machine, why are you expected to buy a round for everyone in the pub? And, most importantly, just why shouldn't you touch the nuts?!

Leseprobe

DON’T

TOUCH THE

NUTS

DON’T

TOUCH THE

NUTS

DANIEL FORD

Published in 2010 by New Holland Publishers (UK) LtdLondon • Cape Town • Sydney • Aucklandwww.newhollandpublishers.com

Garfield House, 86–88 Edgware Road, London W2 2EA, United Kingdom80 McKenzie Street, Cape Town 8001, South AfricaUnit 1, 66 Gibbes Street, Chatswood, NSW 2067, Australia218 Lake Road, Northcote, Auckland, New Zealand

Copyright © 2010 in text: Daniel FordCopyright © 2010 in illustrations: New Holland Publishers (UK) LtdCopyright © 2010 New Holland Publishers (UK) LtdDaniel Ford has asserted his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers and copyright holders.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 84773 704 5 (Print)ISBN 978 1 78009 065 8 (ePub)ISBN 978 1 78009 066 5 (Pdf)

Although the publishers have made every effort to ensure that information contained in this book was correct at the time of going to press, they accept no responsibility for any inaccuracies, loss, injury or inconvenience sustained by any person using this book as reference.

Senior Editor: Kate Parker

Editorial Direction: Rosemary Wilkinson

Publisher: Aruna Vasudevan

Editorial Assistance: Eloise Wood

Design and cover design: Vanessa Green, The Urban Ant Ltd

Illustrations: Tom Hughes

Production: Melanie Dowland

To all my locals over the years …

The Prince Albert (Greenwich), The Hufflers Arms (Dartford),The Wheatsheaf (Headley), The White Horse (Oxford),Charlie’s Bar (Paphos, Cyprus) andThe Royal Oak (Cape Town, South Africa).

CONTENTS

Introduction

The White Hart or the Country Squire?

Which pub is for you?

‘He’s next…’

The rituals of queuing and buying a round

‘Two pints of bitter and a lager top’

What does your drink say about you?

‘Can I have a straight glass?’

Which glass to use for which drink

‘That’s Charlie’s seat’

Old Boys and other locals

Where to sit?

The bar, the table, the beer garden?

‘Fancy a game of darts, mate?’

Pub games, teams and quizzes

Don’t touch the nuts

Bar snacks and food

This is my gaff!’

The guv’nor and bar staff

‘Free beer tomorrow’

The baffling world of pub style

‘This one’s for Louise’

Music in pubs

‘Excuse me mate, I can’t see the game’

Pubs and sport

The toilets

The rules of the gents’ and ladies’

Smokers

Standing out in the cold

‘Nice rack, darling’

Barmaids and boobs

‘Wash yoour neem?’

Drunks and drunkenness

‘Time, gentlemen, please’

Last orders and home time

INTRODUCTION

This introduction is being written in a pub. My publishers would expect nothing less, I have decided. Plus, I fancied a pint. More importantly, I fancied looking around at other people and wondering what the hell they are doing here rather than being in work at 11.14am on a Tuesday (like me). I’m also pondering whether I can claim this beer on expenses.

‘Can I get a receipt for that, please?’

‘A receipt for a pint of Foster’s?!’ replies the barmaid.

‘That’s right.’

‘What kind of job lets you claim beer on expenses?’

‘Ah, well, I’m writing a book on pubs, you know.’

‘Right love, and Dave over there is a rocket scientist.’

I may be wrong, but I suspect she’s taking the piss. Although I also suspect pubs were probably invented so we had somewhere to take the piss out of each other.

‘Taking the piss’ is a British obsession, right up there with updates on the weather and endless cups of tea. And where better to start a book on the unwritten rules of pubs than with rule number one?

You can, as a rule, take the piss out of people in a pub to an extent you could never get away with on the street. However, as with all rules, there are exceptions:

 If the other person is bigger than you

  If you are wearing a cravat

It’s 11.58am and two builders have just walked in. At least they’ve been to work first, unlike Dave and the other people sitting at the bar.

‘Can I claim this second beer on expenses do you reckon?’ I ask them. ‘I’m writing a book on pubs, you see.’

‘Sure,’ says the big one.

‘And Dave over there is a rocket scientist,’ says the one wearing a cravat.

‘Hang on, hang on,’ I wail. ‘I’ve used all that material. How am I going to complete this book if I’m using the same stuff already?’

They ignore me.

I decide I should hang around a bit longer, just so this introduction is authentic, you understand.

The builders have downed their beers and left already. Good old swift ones. Swift ones are not so much a rule as a custom. Me? I’m not much of a ‘swift one’ type of guy; for me, pubs are to be enjoyed, savoured. Nevertheless, I can accept people, like the builders, who are on a short break and fancy a quick pint, a packet of crisps and a check on the cricket score; but what’s with those people who come in, order a double vodka and down it before their change is out of the till? I mean, that’s just mainlining alcohol. What’s the point? You might as well just keep a bottle in your drawer at work.

It’s 1.26pm and a few people have come in for lunch. The special is pork chops.

‘Would you like a receipt for that too, love,’ asks the barmaid (her name’s Clare she tells me; I think I might have pulled). ‘For your expenses?’

She’s now warming to the idea of this book, especially as I just bought her half a lager, and I now know Dave is actually a life insurance salesman and Tuesday is his day off. He apparently comes in every week, has breakfast, reads his Telegraph, disappears to put his bets on and comes back to do some work (that’s what Clare reckons anyway, because he’s always on the phone and writing notes). Later, he just talks rubbish, plays darts with his friends and gets drunk.

In Dave’s day off I have found the perfect summary of why the British love pubs. Ah, thank goodness I stayed here. Everyone knows pubs are central to life in Britain and Dave’s day off shows why. In just one day his local is his restaurant, his library, his office and his social meeting place. If he’d just put some money in the jukebox and pull the barmaid (not Clare, she’s too nice for Dave) then he’d never need to leave the pub at all.

The reason most of us like pubs is that it’s a home from home (without the nagging partner or screaming children). The heating is on (and it’s not your bill), the telly is on (and it’s not your subscription), there are snacks available whenever you want them, and the fridge never runs out of cold beer (except on New Year’s Eve). But best of all, in this wonderful nation where social interaction is awkward to say the least, this is a place where you can enjoy the company of other people, or simply feel a part of a group. Is it any wonder that the writers of most British soaps use the pub as the pivot of their plots? You simply don’t get it in US or Aussie soaps. In those, people actually visit each other’s homes. Heaven forbid!

We Brits do pubs better than anyone, let’s be honest. In fact, apart from the Irish and the odd enclave dotted around the English-speaking world, we are pretty much the only ones who do pubs at all. Elsewhere it’s all pavement cafes, bistros and bars. But to really enjoy a pub you have to know how it works. You have to know what pubs you can and can’t go in, where you can and can’t sit, what to drink, who you can and can’t talk to and, most importantly of all, which urinal you can piss in.

I’ve got a Colombian friend, Carlos, who reckons British pubs are like foreign islands in what (to him) is already a foreign island – a bit like Guernsey to the rest of us, maybe?

‘In Colombia,’ he says, ‘we too meet friends and have a drink. But I can’t work your pubs out. It’s all a bit confusing to understand what’s going on.’ Be confused no more. Pubs are run by a set of complex rules, but over time they can be understood. These are not rules you will find hung on the wall, however; they are unwritten. Well, at least they were until I started this book.

Sorry, must go, Clare’s smiling at me. Think I’ll stay for one more.

Daniel Ford, Greenwich, South London, 3.27pm, one summer(ish) Tuesday afternoon

THE WHITE HART OR THE COUNTRY SQUIRE?

Which pub is for you?

There are, basically, eight types of pubs, but within these categories there is a lot of overlap – you may well find a student pub near a harbour, for instance – and lots of sub-sections – music pubs, theme pubs and so on – but, for simplicity’s sake, let’s stick to the main eight.

1. The Local

All pubs are, to a certain extent, local pubs. However, a true local (often referred to as a ‘real local’) can be identified by one hard-and-fast rule: the moment you push open the door everyone stops talking and turns to look at you. Even the jukebox pauses. This is not the time to break step or ask if they serve risotto; simply march to the bar, nod at the nearest person, mutter ‘alwite’ and order the strongest lager on tap. ‘Locals’ tend to be in areas where people can walk to the pub, thus attracting the same bunch every night. As a rule, a local is sparsely decorated, has a darts team, shows the football on the TV at all times, and is never known by its full name – for example, The White Hart would be just ‘the Hart’ and the Stag’s Head would be known as ‘the Stag’s’. Interestingly, often you only have to go into the same pub three or four times and you too will be a local and allowed to stare at unsuspecting newcomers who stumble through the door.

2. Inner-city pubs

Surprise, surprise, these are found in the inner cities. Bereft of any architectural appeal or decor, they must have boarded-up windows and blood on the walls. They are usually named after the local area with the simple addition of ‘Arms’ – as in ‘Why-The-Hell-Does-Anyone-Live-Here Arms’.

3. Harbour pubs

See ‘Inner-city pubs’ above except these pubs are located by a harbour. They all have to be called The Ship or The Anchor; if the pub is particularly interesting it is allowed to be called The Ship and Anchor.

Harbour pubs are never called the Seaman’s anything, for obvious reasons.

4. Country pubs

At best, this will be a beautiful 16th-century inn where you can impress a date; at worst it will be a carvery overrun with children on Sundays. The former must have old benches where you can sit and stare over the fields/river/hills while chatting about how lovely it would be to live in the country; while it is obligatory for the latter to have a mini-Disneyland in the garden.

Country pubs have a lot of wood in them, and must claim to have had a famous person stay there once (take your pick from Charles Dickens, King George I/II/III/IV, William Shakespeare or Sven-Goran Eriksson).

If nobody famous actually stayed at the pub then the back-up rule is that it must have a ghost.

Names need to be countrified, such as The Country Squire, The Fox and Hounds or The Pheasant Inn. None are called The Pheasant Plucker, as far as I know.

5. Gastropubs

These are places that make more money from food than drink and therefore should not even be called pubs.

6. Tourist pubs

Have you ever been to an Irish theme pub in another country? Well, that pretty much sums up tourist pubs, although they’re often not quite as kitsch. Tourist pubs are found in places such as Oxford, Cambridge, York and the touristy parts of London. The main qualifying factor for a tourist pub is that, although most of the customers are foreign, none of the bar staff (even if they are foreign themselves) are allowed to understand a foreign accent or speak anything but English. Be prepared to wait 20 minutes to get served as the other customers grapple with their English, ask about the various merits of each (allegedly warm) beer, then finally order 16 plates of ‘traditional’ fish and chips before disappearing outside to find out what table number their party is sitting on.

7. Student pubs