Roughest pub you've ever been in??

[sir roger]

 

 

 

 

The Weighing Machine needs Dalton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The woman with the gun got 5 years , it was in the bogus-Pink echo yesterday.

[stringvest]

I'd imagine a man of your conversation lilt has pub violence following him round like a cartoon cloud anyway SD?

 

fucking hell that made me laugh. True though, SD?

[stringvest]

The Nordsman Off the dock road. Big Steel door you have to knock on to get in.

 

You mean the Norseman. I used to drink in all the dives around there in my youth - The Dominion, The Hangsman etc but the Norseman took the biscuit. You needed to be absolutely slaughtered, tooled up, or have a death wish to go in there. People would be glassed in there all the time. You could be in there until 6am though, even in the 70s and 80s.

 

I also used to frequent the Ibo and the Yoruba clubs in Upper Parliament St on a Sunday afternoon. There was a woman in the Ibo who had a very unusual bottle opener, if memory serves me correctly.

[stringvest]

This thread is very, very funny indeed.

 

Unsurprisingly, I'm not great in rough pubs.

 

I just give off a vibe that says "snooty, well-educated, well-dressed, vaguely smug, stupid haircut, thinks he's better than all of you. Possibly gay. Please attack me"

 

 

The word you're scrabbling around for is Twat, Brendan. Thank fuck you're not like that on here.

[sparta7]

You mean the Norseman. I used to drink in all the dives around there in my youth - The Dominion, The Hangsman etc but the Norseman took the biscuit. You needed to be absolutely slaughtered, tooled up, or have a death wish to go in there. People would be glassed in there all the time. You could be in there until 6am though, even in the 70s and 80s.

 

I also used to frequent the Ibo and the Yoruba clubs in Upper Parliament St on a Sunday afternoon. There was a woman in the Ibo who had a very unusual bottle opener, if memory serves me correctly.

 

Could you elaborate on that last line please? Was the bottle opener....uuuhhh....organic in nature?

[manwiththestick]

You mean the Norseman. I used to drink in all the dives around there in my youth - The Dominion, The Hangsman etc but the Norseman took the biscuit. You needed to be absolutely slaughtered, tooled up, or have a death wish to go in there. People would be glassed in there all the time. You could be in there until 6am though, even in the 70s and 80s.

 

I also used to frequent the Ibo and the Yoruba clubs in Upper Parliament St on a Sunday afternoon. There was a woman in the Ibo who had a very unusual bottle opener, if memory serves me correctly.

 

It was her fanny wasn't it?

[paddyberger15]

I have heard many stories about this place - one where a guy robbed a monkey from Knowsley safari Park and raffled it in the pub.

 

That is the fucking greatest story ever told. Fucking burst out laughing when I read it.

[Byrnie]

"Anyone ever been in the Globe by Clayton Square? - dead small shitty pub thats always busy with pissheads on the Karaoke even at 11 am on a Sunday. My mate set fire to his pubes at the bar once and no one batted an eyelid."

 

Wrong place mate you are thinking of Coopers, which is an absolute shithole. The Globe is next door before The Midland, a cracking little boozer, no nutters in sight and a nice pint.

 

Sorry, just had to stick up for The Globe......a noble cause for my 1000th post.

 

Aye, The Globe is great. Some of the best reds that there is drink there. Bobby Wilcox was one of the Globe ratpack.

[Byrnie]

Doctor Troy has some class stories on this thread.

[redsoxs]

This thread as made me laugh.... knowing most of the rough arse pubs in Liverpool, I've been in most them with working for some of the owners... (Eagle & Child & The Crown) (which have now gone) some are scary, but I never really got scared in any of them. Until i when to Cuba 2 years ago.

 

Cuba.

When on holiday with the wife, for a fortnight to Varadero, great place just not a lot to do... so we decided with another couple from Manchester who we meet (as you do) to go Havana City over the weekend. So, on the net i went, booked 2 days in the centre of Havana in a "National house", these are like BB owned by Doctors etc... with license to let rooms, when on the town that night feeling OK, although the city is a shithole, it known as one of the safe Cities in the world? Anyway, got to the street were we staying about 3am, as we was walking up the street, we noticed some lights on in the corner building... soon realising is a local pub, it had no windows but bars...

Manc: says, let go for a drink in to local?

ME: first look at the place... i saying no chance, but reluctantly greed.

 

Where all walking towards this places, which looks like bar after the bombing of Beirut (rough as hell) as we walk closer...

 

Manc: Narr... this is a bad idea

 

ME: (i notice the locals are already eying us up) You can't stop now! there all looking at us, its too fucking late.... Just carry on walking.

 

The Girls, both linking each other shitting themselves, with good reason.

 

So we are walking... the wife's looking like million dollars dress up, were wearing shirts costing more-than the pub.... talk about looking out of place. Anyway as walk in; you can image the whole place just went silent! you could hear the knees knocking on the manc (cunt who put us into this place in first place), So I just walk straight to bar, asking for 4 beers, the manager notice the wifes... obviously!!! looking for somewhere to sit (its not a big room 8ish small tables) the wifes edging toward the corner of the room, he bents down under the bar, grabs a table cloth and runs out to place it over the table for the girls, at this point the manc saying no.. no... no... no... it OK. we don't need the table cloth, so he return to taking the beers to table... at this point all are arses are shitting it.... the manager looking a little miffed with the manc.... were all in the corner with lizards & spiders the size of fist crawling all over the walls the girl snooting about how dirtying the place is .... so ask I the manc why did say no to the table coth?

 

Manc reply: i didn't want to look out of place.

 

my reply: The bar full of cubans looking like cut throat baddits, you come out with that.... we all started laughing, which broke all are nervousness, we start to talking the locals, you see them eying up the girls, but they were fine.... we crawled out at the break of light.

 

A moment I'll never forget.

[Harry Squatter]

Went into some bar in Hamburg on my mates stag do, there was only 2 of us left out so we were bladdered and randomly staggered from bar to bar not fussed where we went.

 

We got into this bar after the PR fellas outside said the drinks were 2 for 1, when we got in it was the lowest quality lapdancing bar you can imagine. All the women in there looked like Heroin addicts from Moldova. A few came over and sat next to us but couldnt speak English, we basically used sign language to say we weren't interested so they sat elsewhere.

 

We then get a bill on our table for 35 Euros even though we paid for our drinks at the bar. I went and told the bar manager to fuck off and said we weren't paying it. He just called the head bouncer over who said we'd been charged for the girls time and that we had talked to them for 10 minutes.

 

I said to the lad with me "Watch this, they think we are a pair of mugs, if we stand our ground they'll just let us go". I said to the bouncer "Listen mate, we aren't paying this joke of a bill, we didn't even talk to them or order them drinks, now fuck off"

 

The bouncer then opens his long black coat to reveal a massive knife and says "Maybe both of you would like to meet my friend Stanley?" and two more knuckleheads blocked the exit.

 

I said "35 was it? - is 3 tens and a five ok?" - gave the money to him and legged it.

[Harry Squatter]

On my stag weekend 10 of us went to Warsaw, the second day we were all out at 11 am drinking. We walked around and saw some bar which had glass panel windows and it still looked busy as there was loud music blaring out and lights flashing, I said to my mates we should go in for a drink. Walked up to the door which was a cheapo makeshift one made out of wood with graffiti all over it. We walked up to the bar after avoiding about 20 people dancing like Bez out the Happy Mondays on the dance floor. All the windows were soaking with condensation due to people being in there all night.

 

At the bar I asked for 10 pints of Tyskie but the barman just said in the most monotonous Terminator style voice “GET OUT”, looked around and we were getting some weird looks so we decided to leave as it was obvious we weren’t going to get served and we definitely weren’t welcome.

 

We walked over to some Irish bar about 20 yards next to this shady bar and sat in the chairs outside, as soon as we sat down we saw some big guy getting thrown out of the bar, he came flying out and nearly knocked the makeshift door off its hinges. He must have been about 6 foot 5 but didn’t look the most fearsome of characters, then two little ratboys with massive gold chains ran out and started punching him in the face – it was quite funny because it was like they were punching up towards the sky, they managed to land 4/5 punches in his face then both smashed their pint glasses full of beer over his head, booted him in the balls and went back inside.

 

This guy was rolling round on the floor with a cut head but then randomly got up sat at a bus stop next to 2 old dears for a couple of minutes, he then summoned the courage to go back in. He was inside for about 10 seconds when he got launched out again through the makeshift door and the 2 little rats came out and gave him a few more digs and tripped him onto the floor kicking him in the back. We carried on drinking our pints and didn’t want to get involved as there was obviously something dodgy going on.

 

He then goes over by the bus stop for a few minutes then decides he’s going to go back in, all of us get our cameras and phones out ready for another round of entertainment but as he opened the door a glass was thrown and smashed near his face of the makeshift door, he decided against a third beating and walked away, we all sighed and turned our cameras off and carried on drinking. He sat down in the middle of the square trying to wipe off the blood on his head and 2 coppers came up to him asking what he was doing. He pointed at the bar but the coppers shook their heads and walked off saying “no, we’re not going in there”. The fella got up and walked off, still shaken and staggering everywhere, he walked into a glass panel in the bus shelter before disappearing down the road.

[Hand Shandy]

Remind me to never, ever, under any circumstances, go out on the piss with Doctor Troy...

[silverlining]

Remind me to never, ever, under any circumstances, go out on the piss with Doctor Troy...

 

Hahahahaha! Is right.

 

I've been to Warsaw. It is quite a mental place. The Poles have a certain loony gene.

[Tom R]

Not so much a rough pub but a weird bar, went to a bar in Leeds on Call Lane called Oporto, i went to watch the Mancs play Villareal there on the Tuesday on my own cos i was bored sitting in the hotel, the next night me and my work colleague went out to watch Liverpool Vs Marseille there. When I got there all teh TV's were off and the big screen was not there, I asked the barman if they were showing the Liverpool game and he said that they never show footy in the bar. I said that I was in the bar last night to watch the Manc game and he was adamant that there had been no footy on in this bar for a year.

 

After arguing with him for about 5 minutes we left and went to another pub in Leeds city centre. It was like the scene in Moonraker where Bond goes into the building with the head of MI6 and the defence secretary expecting to see a lab creating toxic nerve gas but Drax is sitting off having cucumber sandwiches, either that or the Shining.

 

 

Oporto is the greatest bar in existence, ever.

 

I've been drinking in there just about every week for 13 years! They don't even have a big screen, and never have done! They've got a telly above the door, but they rarely show the match, at least not with the sound on.

 

The barman you encountered was probably Good Old Miserable Dave.

Is this him:

 

[sir roger]

Went into some bar in Hamburg on my mates stag do, there was only 2 of us left out so we were bladdered and randomly staggered from bar to bar not fussed where we went.

 

We got into this bar after the PR fellas outside said the drinks were 2 for 1, when we got in it was the lowest quality lapdancing bar you can imagine. All the women in there looked like Heroin addicts from Moldova. A few came over and sat next to us but couldnt speak English, we basically used sign language to say we weren't interested so they sat elsewhere.

 

We then get a bill on our table for 35 Euros even though we paid for our drinks at the bar. I went and told the bar manager to fuck off and said we weren't paying it. He just called the head bouncer over who said we'd been charged for the girls time and that we had talked to them for 10 minutes.

 

I said to the lad with me "Watch this, they think we are a pair of mugs, if we stand our ground they'll just let us go". I said to the bouncer "Listen mate, we aren't paying this joke of a bill, we didn't even talk to them or order them drinks, now fuck off"

 

The bouncer then opens his long black coat to reveal a massive knife and says "Maybe both of you would like to meet my friend Stanley?" and two more knuckleheads blocked the exit.

 

I said "35 was it? - is 3 tens and a five ok?" - gave the money to him and legged it.

 

Had a similar experience in Soho donkeys years ago. There were 3 of us & we were struggling to get in anywhere decent, so allowed ourselves to be coerced into one of those downstairs bars.

 

We were handed a warm can of ale each & a porno film was showing on a

( very poorly plastered ) bare wall & you could hardly make anything out that was going on in the film.

 

We got up to leave & were asked for £30 quid. I told the girl to piss off & put a fiver on the bar. I wasn't too intimidated by three huge bouncers strolling over as one of our number was a 2nd dan black belt in ju-jitsu. I suggested calmly that it would probably in their best interests to step aside. They showed no sign of moving so I turned for my mate, only to find him hyperventilating and trying desperately to get his money down his socks.

 

I paid up, but tutted very loudly as I did it, in protest.

[Fugitive]

This always raises a giggle but is not entirely true.

 

First, a little background on the Huyton Baddies...

 

250 strong gang of hooligans and petty criminals. Famous for f******* related looting sprees across Europe in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Huyton, Liverpool 1977.

 

Every year in September, the circus would come to the common in Huyton, a nice spot of sub Billy Smart family entertainment. The big top had been up for a couple of days when the Strongman was in one of the local pubs having an aftershow drink with the Trapeze Girl. One of the Huyton Baddies top boys was also in the bar with a mate who was hyping him up to have a crack at the Trapeze Girl.

 

So up he goes, all swagger, to chat her up right under the nose of the Strongman. After a brief exchange of pleasantries the Strongman just grabs the Baddie Top Boy, picks him up above his head and throws him through the front window of the snug. Not surprisingly, the Trapeze Girl and him get out of there fast, whilst the unfortunate scallie lies unconscious in the street.

 

News of the incident quickly spreads through the estate and a war council convenes to formulate an appropriate direct action response. No Strongman comes on their patch and chucks Top Boys through pub windows. It's decided.......

 

The following evening a 200 strong mob of Baddies gathers on the common. They attack the circus just before the last show of the evening. These Baddies really mean business - beating and giving a good kicking to the Strongman, all the clowns (even the little one) and the ring master.

 

Still not wholly satisfied they start burning down the big top and then release all the animals from their cages. Suddenly there's lions tigers and elephants stampeding out across the common towards the bright lights of the town.

 

Before too long crazed circus animals are prowling the mean streets of Huyton terrorizing the local residents. Special police and zoo swat teams arrive on the scene. A lion is shot outside the King's Head. A tiger finds itself in Betty's Hair Salon on Mortimer Street, whilst the elephant roams unchallenged up and down the High Street.

 

The chaos lasts until the next morning when all the animals are rounded up or shot. The Baddies will not bring such glory upon themselves again until they hijack the P&O ferry the following year. But that's a story for another time.

 

 

The ferry incident is true though, my old Man was on it. That's a story for the *F though.

[Carvalho Diablo]

This thread is fucking beautiful.

 

Doctor Troy is a total Leg in my book and has ruled this thread.

[stringvest]

I actually remember 'Twix fits' from my misspent youth and her act was quite artistic (!) before the malarkey with the disappearing Twix bar. She came on first wearing a proper brides outfit with posy and veil. And the time I watched she ate the Twix bar herself!

 

I remember her as well. She had to leave town - there was a Bounty on her head.

[silverlining]

I remember her as well. She had to leave town - there was a Bounty on her head.

 

Hahahahaha

[TaksimRakiClub]

One night, many a moon ago, I was in The Criterion (now Mother Redcaps) in New Brighton with four or five of the lads having a bevvy.

 

The Cri is literally twenty yards from where the Mersey meets the Irish Sea and it was a really dirty, horrible December night. Pissing-down, blowing a full-on hoolie - with the wind howling off the river.

 

Anyway, in walks a blond young man, very well-coiffured, wearing calf-length boots, royal blue leather kecks (tucked into the boots) and a matching jacket. The oufit was completed by a white shirt and ruffle and a large gold earring dangling from his left ear.

 

"Fuckin hell" me mate says none too quietly "It's A Flock of Seagulls"

 

Cue general laughter and wolf whistles from the rest of the lads.

 

Without saying a word the young lad turns tail and walks out of the boozer accompaniesd by much derision from our direction.

 

Thirty seconds later the door of the boozer nearly comes off its hinges and the doorframe is literally filled by a massive, shaggy haired, bearded figure - 6'5" at least and an absolute ringer for Giant Haystacks. His hair blowing wildly in the wind, he shouts:

 

"WHO THE FUCK'S BEEN UPSETTING OUR PETER, THEN?"

 

The whole pub falls silent.

 

He advances in resolute fashion across the boozer in our direction whilst me and the rest of the lads are frantically fighting chairs, tables, the jukebox and eachother as we desperately try to put as many solid objects as possible between ourselves and the wildman.

 

Meanwhile, a little irish fella has followed him into the pub.

 

"Now, Jimmy" says the little irish fella "these lads are all fine lads and you're ok aren't you boys?"

 

We all nod in hasty agreement and confirm that we are, in fact, all fine lads and under no circumstances did we intend any disrespect towards our Peter. Our greeting was meant more in the way of friendly banter than anything else and would the three lads care to join us for a beverage?

 

Oil poured on troubled water - fresh drinks are shouted-in and Jimmy is suitably calmed.

 

The little fella explains to us that Jimmy The Wildman has a party trick and if we all ask him nicely it may be an appropriate occasion for a demonstration of the aforementioned party trick.

 

A few seconds deliberation, a general nodding of heads and Jimmy stands up and walks out of the pub.

 

"Hold the door open, Peter" - his parting instruction to A Flock of Seagulls.

 

Fuck all happens for about two minutes.

 

None of us has a clue what's going on and we're all looking at each other in some bemusement when suddenly from outside is heard a deafening roar followed by quickly approaching footsteps:

 

Two seconds later Jimmy re-enters the boozer at a rate of knotts and as he arrives on the threshold he does a front handspring, quickly followed by another and then lands flat on his back across a table - breaking the table in the process and taking out various drinks and a number of the local womenfolk.

 

Fuckin weird night that was.

[Fowlers God]

I went to a bar once.

[Harry Squatter]

My mate is Elvis Brettini who is an Elvis tribute act (funnily enough). He has been all over Britain and done gigs in Las Vegas, Spain, Portugal and the Caribbean. I remember him telling me about a gig he did in Kettering. He said he was booked to perform at the Kettering Lesbian Darts team's Christmas party. He drove down in his motorhome, he normally takes another guy with him incase there's any dodginess but this time he thought he'd be ok.

 

He gets to the pub which a proper old mans pub with a makeshift stage out of milk crates and wood, only people in there are about 30 butch looking lesbians with shaven heads drinking pints of strongbow and a couple of al fellas playing dominoes in the corner. He starts his routine and he's halfway through his 3rd song Love me Tender and some fat 20 odd stone lesbian with a skinhead wearing a denim jacket invades the stage so he has to stop singing. She says "Fucking sing Suspicious Minds now" - he says - "It's my final song - my showstopper, I always sing it last" - the lesbian says "Fucking sing it NOW" - Elvis says "No, wait to the end" - The lesbian then punches him in the stomach on stage and boots him in the balls.

 

When Elvis gets up he says "Right that's it, no one hits me on stage, i'm off" and starts to gether his gear, the lesbian chases him out to the carpark screaming at him saying he should have sung it and she'l going to fill him in, luckily he got in his motorhome and fucked off back up the motorway.

[Harry Squatter]

Elvis did a set of gigs in Trinidad after a guy over here had seen him and asked him to do a few hotel and bar gigs over there. He went over and this British based guy had sorted out his flights, accomodation and even put on a driver for him to take him anywhere.

 

He had to do a gig in Port of Spain at a local bar and he shit himself when he got there because it was rough and some of the locals looked proper dodgy. Halfway through the gig 5 fellas march in with guns and casually walk on stage and nick his speakers and rob a few of the people sitting in the front row. As Elvis had brought his own gear he needed to report this to the local police station so has to walk out in his white jump suit. The driver tells him not to go to any police stations by the bar as they will probably know the people who robbed him and do nothing so he drives slightly out of town to a small police station by the beach. When he goes in it is basically one room with some stoned fella in a police outfit behind a desk, some guy was tied up with a washing line and had a dishcloth rammed in his throat to shut him up, Elvis asked to report the theft but the guy behind the counter says that the Sergeant is the only one who can authorise a report, he looks outside and sees some guy pull up on a police bike with a bottle of beer in his hand. He is teh Sergeant and comes in to do the report for Elvis, still in his white jump suit.

 

Elvis gives a detailed description of what happened and gives a goood description of the 5 fellas who robbed him. It all gets written down and he gets a copy to submit to the insurance company when he gets back home. He started reading it in the car and all it basically said was "I was boogying with boys on stage, 5 gunmen come in and threaten boom boom boom and they stole me gear" - the insurance company still paid out!

Edited April 2, 2011 by Doctor Troy

[tokyojoe]

My mate is Elvis Brettini who is an Elvis tribute act (funnily enough). He has been all over Britain and done gigs in Las Vegas, Spain, Portugal and the Caribbean. I remember him telling me about a gig he did in Kettering. He said he was booked to perform at the Kettering Lesbian Darts team's Christmas party. He drove down in his motorhome, he normally takes another guy with him incase there's any dodginess but this time he thought he'd be ok.

 

He gets to the pub which a proper old mans pub with a makeshift stage out of milk crates and wood, only people in there are about 30 butch looking lesbians with shaven heads drinking pints of strongbow and a couple of al fellas playing dominoes in the corner. He starts his routine and he's halfway through his 3rd song Love me Tender and some fat 20 odd stone lesbian with a skinhead wearing a denim jacket invades the stage so he has to stop singing. She says "Fucking sing Suspicious Minds now" - he says - "It's my final song - my showstopper, I always sing it last" - the lesbian says "Fucking sing it NOW" - Elvis says "No, wait to the end" - The lesbian then punches him in the stomach on stage and boots him in the balls.

 

When Elvis gets up he says "Right that's it, no one hits me on stage, i'm off" and starts to gether his gear, the lesbian chases him out to the carpark screaming at him saying he should have sung it and she'l going to fill him in, luckily he got in his motorhome and fucked off back up the motorway.

 

Dodgy place Kettering.