After a day of extra time in the Fish Factory, I needed a break. The cool taste of a pint and some time for myself. As I didn’t have any reading material I ended up buying about Team working and then searched for somewhere to read it in peace and quite. I checked out the usual pub, but on seeing the Witch and Troglodyte in there again I decided to give it a miss. There is just so much ignorance a person can deal with in any one week. I then went in search of another pub with my book. Except this other pub looked like a dive, as two shifty characters stood outside smoking a cigarette each with similar Neanderthal tendencies I had avoided from the Trog and associate dumb Witch. I then ventured towards a third pub, walked in and there saw one of the regulars I recognised I’ll call him Mr Belgium. On account this was where he was born. Anyway, Mr Belgium finished his pint and recommended a fourth pub which he said drew a very good pint of Guinness.
It’s odd what your taste buds get used to, my normal pub I knew really wasn’t much good when it came to a pint of the black stuff. I just have this feeling they are not cleaning out the pipes on a regular basis. My Guinness always has a strange tang to it. I endure this tang and in so doing spend about an hour supping. We entered this fourth pub, with Mr Belgium announcing this pub did the best Guinness he had ever tasted. O.K. Well you have to give these things a try.
The bar was big and pub seemed pretty big on the inside as well. Two flat screen TVs were on, there was some kind of football match on. I took a cursory glance at the game and wondered. Talking to Mr Belgium we walked to the bar and ordered the pints. Mr Belgium took my plastic bag with new book with him outside the pub to an area they had set aside for smokers. The bar staff seemed to be taking an eternity with the Guinness. I looked up again at the TVs and realised they were not playing football as one of the players picked up the ball and ran with it. Neither was it rugby. The ball was definitely round. The clientele of the pub had without doubt Irish accents. Maybe this was some kind of Irish footy I thought. The Guinness came and I took the pints outside to sit with Mr Belgium.
Mr Belgium admired his pint and said it was exactly how a real Guinness should look. Myself, well I thought it might of looked a little darker than normal, and they hadn’t put a leaf on top. With a little scepticism I drank my first sip. Hmmm. It was different. It was more silk and smooth than I had tasted before. Then I found, it went down so much easier. There was no one hour or more slow sipping. This beautiful elixir must of lasted a half hour maybe less. We had a second and I was then beginning to feel slightly intoxicated. I took it a little slower. The conversation was good and I really enjoyed the afternoon.
The moral of the story? Make sure the pipes are clean before pouring a pint otherwise your punters will just not drink it.
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