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At the end of the seventies a new fad broke loose. CB Radio. CB clubs sprouted all over the country, Rubber Ducks had never been so popular and Bakewell was no exception.
I'm not going to ramble on about CB Radio, I did enough of that when I had one, but this is a true story about a series of events which happened in our club.
There were approximately sixteen of us, including other halves, and we used to hold weekly meetings in the Castle Hotel at Bakewell, preceding a trip out, 'Good Buddying' all the way to various other pubs in the area.
This particular evening we decided to go to the Devonshire Arms at Pilsley near Bakewell.
We went in separate cars so we could talk to each other on the radios (how silly) and when the first person got there he went in and bought a pint. He'd no sooner had one sip of it when all the others arrived in a great crowd, all raring to go, but not too noisy. Anyway at this point the landlord decided he couldn't handle sixteen people all at once so he said "I'm not serving you lot! Out you go come on!" and proceeded to usher us out of the door. When asked why, he came out with the excuse that we weren't dressed properly because we weren't wearing ties.
After a deep debate about the somewhat unusual situation we decided that next week we'd pay him another visit. This time we all got dressed up in evening suits, with bow ties and in one case a tail coat, and the women in beautiful flowing evening dresses. There were a few more of us this time as one or two more had got to here about it.
Again we rolled up all in separate cars, but he saw us coming this time and closed the door before we got in, shouting "Go away or I'll call the Police" We of course explained that we were now dressed more suitably and that we only wanted to bring him some trade, but would he have it? So off we went again, this time leaving a number of curious villagers wondering what was going off.
By now the full 'Devil' mode had set in. So the week after we went all dressed in swimming trunks, bathing costumes and bikinis, one person wore a diving suit with flippers and a snorkel and most of the village were sat waiting in anticipation when we arrived. Again the door was closed before we could get in and this time he did call the police who apparently arrived after we'd gone. I know this because one of the policemen came to see me the day after (it was someone I knew) and politely asked us not to go again even though he saw the humorous side to the whole thing.
Unfortunately, to use an expression John Cleese once said " The Pub is now run by disappointingly charming people"