![]() ![]() Had a few experiences in there but one day stands out - summer of 2010, the World Cup was on (from memory I think the match was USA v Ghana) and they had a big TV, which was showing an American feed. Not a flat roofed pub in actuality, but very much one in vibe. There used to be a pub called the Charlie Chaplin which was part of the now demolished Elephant and Castle shopping centre/ roundabout in South London. ![]() The pub? The Navigation, Ty burn road Erdington. they burst out laughing even louder as he came back in to call the police/ his boss for his missing car. in the time it took him to hand the paperwork over to the landlord and leave the pub, the locals had stolen his car. my colleague went on another occasion, he only went to give some paperwork to the landlord and the customers were all laughing at him. as soon as the drill hit the jukebox they all started talking gibberish angrily and the landlord said I better pack up and go and try another day. The jukebox kept getting broken into and soon to be dead guy here had to fit a padlock to it. There was a pub you didn’t go into after 1pm it was that rough, so one time I went in at 10am Sunday expecting no customers (it was before 24h pubs) and the pub was half full of some very tired and very pissed Irish travellers. I used to work in pubs all over the midlands, and some of the roughest I ever went were I Birmingham. Thanks very much, will you come round for your tea next week? One for each pound he stole off yous.Īnd my gran just says, that’s kind of you, But don’t worry, I stabbed him six times. I’m really sorry Mrs Andrews (not our real name obvs.) but the bast*rd had spent £6. So my dad, my gran and I are sitting in the car and my dad’s pal comes out with the purse and says: My dad’s friend asks my gran how much money was in the purse when I was taken she says £20 then he tells all of us to go wait in the car. He’s not having a great time, someone had really done a number on him. The mugger is there, with my Gran’s purse and everything. It’s a Rangers bar, honestly I don’t care either way about football or religion but this was the scariest place I have even been and I have had to do research in places like maximum security prisons. About an hour later we get a call, come to the Louden Tavern in Ibrox. My dad called his ‘friends’ to say this had happened and he wanted to find the guy. (I was not so this was like another world to me.) One day my gran got mugged and her bag was taken. I used to live in Glasgow, and half of my family were from a really rough part of Glasgow. A local family took it over thinking they were better placed to handle the feral regulars, it eventually closed forever after a violent fued between the family and some of their regulars put a few people in hospital. This apparently was a challenge to patrons of other pubs who would visit in numbers to put the story to the test. The Sun picked up on the story and ran a centre page spread on The Hardest Pub in The World. Any unaware sailors who ventured in were subjected to racism and threats of violence, people being thrown through the chip shop window over the road was a regular occurrence. The grown up remnants of the real skinhead gang from Pink Floyd's The Wall film all drank there, or bought bottles of cider from the shop over the road and sat on the steps outside intimidating anyone who walked past. It was a dock town and the pub was the first thing in the town any sailors docked in the port came to. I miss that place very much.Ī pub in my home town was once voted hardest pub in the world in a shipping magazine. ![]() If you wanted to play the cunt you'd only do it once. I've also seen dickheads deservedly get ten bells of shit kicked out of them and you could be sure nobody saw shit should the dibble ask. Everyone looked after everyone else and I've seen so much kindness to folk who needed help offered without anyone wanting anything in return. A genuine community vibe for the locals but everyone was welcome if you played by the rules. ![]() Properly rum place in the best possible way. There were often pasties in the van so fair play to the mutt. Just needed to keep an eye out for the odd cunt who'd soon be put straight one way or another and occasionally Alfie (a massive, slobbering bear of a dog), who might excitedly jump on your knackers if you sat in the wrong seat when the van came round the corner. If you needed it, you could find it there within a few hours. Proper characters everywhere from the daytime regulars, the quiet readers, the beak addled scrappers to the straight up oddities you'd need to meet to believe they exist. A microcosm of the entire world held within a fucking brilliant pub. Honourable mention to the Fox and Grapes but I'm not sure it fits here. Skeffington Arms, the Clayton Brook (aka The Flying Bottle), Muldoon's, the Tanners. ![]()
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