Pub Bitch: Nightingale Special
The manager's view
As any bar worker knows, complaining customers are part and parcel of the working day. One gets used to dealing with tricky types but sometimes a customer goes the extra mile. One Nightingale punter certainly took the biscuit - or nut - recently. He comes in, orders a pint and a bag of cashews and sits down. He returns to the bar half-an-hour later and enquires as to the price of the nuts, which are piled up in the palm of his hand. I told him, whereupon he gasped incredulously and then began separating the nuts, still in the palm of his hand, into those that were quartered, halved and whole. Yes, he was doing a spontaneous nut audit. Honestly, how do you respond to that?
The customer's view*
"One of the many things that I appreciate about visiting the Nightingale is that I consistently receive a full pint of beer. Elsewhere I am increasingly incensed by having to ask 'Can you top that up please?' It's almost becoming a reflex action, like in McDonalds. Would I like fries with that? No. Would I like a full pint? Yes. I whinge, it's what I do. I don't whinge with a full glass. I can't, can I? I know some pubs have to sell a shorter pint to make up their yield requirements, or whatever they're called, but if I wanted nine-tenths of a pint I'd ask for one. Wouldn't I?"
*a genuine customer comment, honest.
Elvis lives in my pub
There's taking one for the team and there's taking one for the team… a recent 'Elvis Evening' held at the Nightingale saw Toby, one of our staff, don the trademark high-collared jacket, 70s shades and stick-on sideburns to become 'The King' for the night. Bless him, Toby had been practising songs on his battered old acoustic guitar for weeks in the run-up to the event, so he was an instant hit. In fact he was so convincing that some old-school Elvis fans were even duped into thinking he was the real deal, despite the obviously blonde hair and looking more like Hergés' teenage detective Tintin than Tupelo, Mississippi's most famous son…
Feeling sheepish
Nightingale staff had a noisy staff party last week, waking us on several occasions past 3am. Our blood was up next morning but on seeing an apologetic note for the racket stuck on our bedroom door, our ire eased. We were touched, almost. Down the hall there was another note, and as we descended the stairs to the bar another, then another, and another. Something was amiss, and as we entered the lounge bar, we saw what it was. The bar top was littered with empty beer bottles, barrels of beer and drained bottles of wine. And in the middle of this set up carnage? Poor old Ram Rod, the pub's mascot, who looked as he'd given in to peer pressure and had had a great time…
A deal's a deal
My mate Tom Sandel, who is set to manage Young's newest pub, the Lass O' Richmond in, yes, Richmond, Surrey, said I was to ensure I gave him a mention in The Publican when we guest edited it. If we did, he said he'd give a free pint to anyone who visits the pub once it opens at the end of this month, as long as they are clutching a copy of this edition of the mag (or a copy of the voucher on the right - click to enlarge, mentioning where you got it from). So, once it's up and running please go and have a look at this great pub - it is going to be fantastic, believe me - and remember to take a copy of this issue with you and get a free drink on the house. Thanks Tom!
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