Richard's Website

Firstly I'd just like to say that this story is meant in an affectionate way, as I did get to know the man this is about quite well. No offence is intended at all.
Again this happened in the late seventies, myself and a few mates decided to go a trip round to find some different pubs to the usual.
Eventually we found ourselves in a small village called Elton, which is not too far from Matlock.
In we went into this village pub which from the outside looked really quite pleasant. Inside however was something else. There was a great big hole in the floor of the lounge caused by woodworm perhaps, and the bar, which was in a separate back room can only be described as being similar to a glass cage in the corner. My mate 'Whiz' went up to the bar and proceeded to order three pints of bitter, we were served straight away as there was no one else in the pub.
As the drinks were being poured we became aware that either the beer was a peculiar colour or that the glasses were extremely dirty or probably both. And so appeared these three pints of sludge.
" Been a nice day" said Whiz sociably as he leaned on the mantelpiece against the warm coal fire. "Don't be so bloody cheeky" came the abrupt reply "And don't you dare piss on that fire" What did he mean? did people normally do such a thing?
Time marched on and none of us were daring to sup much ale, then I needed the toilet so I went to look and found that you had to go down a narrow passage into a back yard to get to the toilets. The problem was that all the empty beer crates were stacked all the way down this passageway so I had to climb over them all to get there, then climb over them all to get back.
I noticed that Everyone else who came in drank bottled beer from the bottle!
Good Old Bill!! They don't have pubs like that anymore.