I really feel superior to
Every
type of foreigners
As
I’m not woken by the cries
Of
coyotes and hyenas
Sunday, 4 April 2021
THE BAR STEWARD
In the early eighties I worked behind the bar at a pub in Woking called the Surrey.
However,
it was not named after the county in which it stood but rather the horse drawn
carriage as featured in the musical “Oklahoma” “the Surrey with the fringe on
top”.
The
pub was built in the mid-sixties as a pre-fabricated temporary structure to
service the fast expanding local area and was meant to be replaced by a
permanent brick built pub at a later date.
The
prefab pub still stands in the same spot and is still in use as a pub.
The
pub was a typical example of the period and unlike today you had a wide range
of bitters on offer and a small selection of lagers now of course it’s the
other way round.
The
youth of today take no time to develop the taste for good ales instead choosing
something that’s merely cold and wet.
Anyway,
as I said I worked behind the bar, I had been a regular there for a few years
Before Phil asked me if I wanted a job and I even played on the darts team for
two seasons was mentioned in the Woking News and Mail for best start and
highest finish in a 7 – 1 thrashing of the Royal Oak.
It
was an alright pub nothing special but alright and with the usual mix of heroes
and villains, unremarkable's and unforgetable's, the good the bad and the ugly.
In
the unforgettable category came two people of particular distinction firstly
was Old Bob who was eighty three when I knew him h was an ex Coldstream Guard
and a veteran of the Great War and a real character and secondly Ray Robinson
another ex-army man though of younger vintage, Ray was an ex Grenadier turned
social worker, incidentally the only social worker I didn’t want to slap, who
every Christmas gave up his time to dress up as Santa and be flown by
helicopter to various children’s homes, when there was still such a thing,
delivering presents.
He
would always raise at least one glass to the regiment, and he called his long-suffering
wife his Duchess.
He
was truly a good man who was sadly taken to young at the hands of cancer, a
great loss.
Ray
was the only person able to get anything resembling a proper smile out of Phil
the landlord.
Phil
and his wife Pat were an odd couple they were like a pair of miscast actors in
a soap opera and totally unsuited for the profession they found themselves in.
What
prompted them to pursue a career in the pub trade we will never ever know but
it was a bad move.
They
had no concept of hospitality and an inability to foster even an ounce of
goodwill from their customers and there was more than a hint of being
inconvenienced when they had to stop what they were doing something to serve someone.
They
were indeed an unwelcoming pair but although Phil was not accustomed to smiling
his wife Pat wore an expression on her face that could stop traffic but thankfully,
she kept away much of the time.
On
one Sunday I was working the lunchtime shift when Pat appeared from the back
room, it was very rare to see her at all on a Sunday but putting in an
appearance at lunch time was totally unheard of, but there she was.
A
man put two glasses on the counter, one pint and a spirit, just as Pat stepped
through the door and he called to her.
“Pint
of lager and a vodka and lime”
Pat
hadn’t seen the man put the glasses on the counter but picked up the pint glass
that stood in front of him and asked.
“Is
this the lager?”
“It’d
look bloody stupid with a vodka and lime in it” he retorted
Pat
put the glass down and turned round and upstairs.
It
was an interesting job at times, and it had its perks.
For
instance, I always hate New Year’s Eve mainly because it’s such a pointless
celebration that now seems to be another excuse to let off fireworks.
Also,
I hate it because if you stay at home there’s nothing on TV if you go out the
pubs, clubs and restaurants are packed and all the organized parties end at
12.15, house parties never end but then house parties are pants unless your
sixteen.
The
best ever New Year’s Eve I ever spent was behind the bar at the Surrey what a
great night, plenty of room behind the bar, free entertainment, wages and tips
by the bucket load.
On
the same Sunday that Pat had put in her brief appearance I was also working the
evening shift which, due to heavy snowfall, was the quietest shift I ever
worked we only had three customers in all night in fact Phil even went the
other side of the bar to make up a foursome on the dart board.
At
the end of the evening, we sent off our three intrepid customers and locked up
and after clearing away, which didn’t take long, I headed off myself.
My
car was buried at the wrong end of the car park, so I decided to leave the car
and walk.
I
could half get the car out if I’d wanted but I like the snow and we don’t get
much of it, so I took the chance to walk home in it.
When
I got to within a hundred yards of home, I needed to cross the road just after
a junction.
I
looked up the road and there was a car heading in my direction, but it was
fifty yards away and as I was crossing after the junction and the car was
already indicating left, I deemed it safe to cross.
When
I was halfway over, I noticed that although the car was indicating left and the
front wheels were turning to the left the car was not in fact it was coming
straight for me.
I
decided I would move quicker but suddenly I was like a cartoon character with my legs going like pistons
and yet I was still in the same spot.
It
was a surreal slow-motion moment with the car getting slowly closer and I could
see the panic in the drivers face and I was still not moving.
Then
simultaneously the car suddenly veered violently to the left and it slewed
round the corner and my feet at last gained some traction and I found myself on
the pavement where I fell on my backside.
A
few months after my near-death experience I gave up my job at the Surrey in
order to run the Social club bar where I had my day job but I still frequented
my local on my free evenings.
SEXUAL POLITICS # 2
Never go to bed angry
With
your wife at night
Never
go to bed angry
GET THE JOB DONE
There are three ways
To
get something done
I
will submit
Do
it yourself
Pay
someone
Or
forbid your kids to do it
THOSE WHO CAN
Those who can, will certainly do
Those
who can’t become teachers
Those
who cannot teach either
Must
then become administrators
RICH OR NOT
You shouldn’t care if you’re rich or not
As
long as you live comfortably with your lot
TIME
You can fool all the people some of the time
And
some of the people all of the time
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