As a dedicated drinker of the amber nectar (and no I don't mean Foster's), I love going to the pub. It doesn't matter whether I am going to a place like the Flying Saucer in order to try something new, or just hanging out with friends, drinking the best of whatever is available on tap, the pub is a place I love to go. So when I find a really good pub then I like to let people know about it through this blog. Of course there are different pubs for different moods, to see what I mean have a look at a week's worth of posts I wrote about my favourite pubs in Prague.
Saturday night was Mrs Velkyal's high school reunion and so after the 3 hours of the official get together thing, a group of us agreed to meet up at a particular pub to continue the drinking. The pub in question was the Pour House, located in Columbia's Five Points area, which is I believe student central. Now, I would love to be able to tell you that they had a great selection of beer, that the atmosphere was excellent and the choice of music simply superb. I would love to, but I can't.
I can't tell you any of those things, because I simply don't know what beer they had available, whether the atmosphere was jumping or even what the music was. Why not? Because the door man wouldn't let me in.
According to the door man, this 6'4" bloke, wearing khaki linen trousers, a black silk shirt and a nice new pair of shoes (and the guys in Prague who know me best will understand that they are a major change from my DMS boots I usually wore), walking hand in hand with his wife, wedding rings glinting under the streetlights, was not to be admitted to the pub, the entrance to which he guarded like Cerberus. Was Velkyal too pished to gain entry to his zythophilic Hades? Nope, bottled beer here is generally of the 330ml kind, and so 5 or 6 Samuel Adams Boston Lagers is just about 3 pints. Perhaps Velkyal looked big, scary and mean, oh wait, sorry talking about me here, yes I am big but I don't do scary and mean very well and would no doubt having a giggling fit if I tried. The reason for Cerberus not allowing me into the domain he guards so jealously was that the sleeves on my shirt were "too long", and that it was "company policy" not to allow people with shirt sleeves that are "too long" into said bar. Here is a picture of my overly long sleeves.
Such great length are they not? Stretching like the mighty Euphrates, all the way to my elbow.
Whilst being stunned into disbelief at such a ridiculous reason for barring my entrance to his honey pot, a couple of the girls from the group we were meeting there came out and were likewise stunned into disbelief at this ridiculous scene unfolding. My good lady wife and I decided that we would simply go next door and have a drink there, and so the rest of the group upped and left the Pour House, owned from what I believe by a couple of guys who graduated with Mrs Velkyal and the group we were with, and we all went next door, to a pub whose name I can't recall. There was a trace of irony in that 3 of the guys were wearing full length sleeves on their shirts, veritable Ganges running all the way to the wrist. Surely also "too long"?. If you look at this picture from the pub's own website, you will again see longer sleeves than those which so offended Cerberus. It is also quite interesting to look at their picture galleries and see the length of shirt sleeves on display, and yet their website has no mention of a "company policy" for how patrons should dress.Thankfully the mindless yapping of little Cerberus didn't put a dent in our evening and I was happy to meet some of the very nice people that Mrs V went to school with.