I first went in behind a bar counter at the age of fifteen and I have since then spent a lot of my life in the ‘pub game.’ There is no richer source of stories than what you hear in an Irish pub and I do have a vast array of true stories stacked up in my head. Hopefully we may yet commit these stories to print.
Probably my favourite of all the pub stories took place in a Ballinasloe pub, sometime before I went to work there. My boss, Hubert Hardiman was a local building contractor. Hubie purchased ‘Loughnanne’s Bar’, on Main Street, where he proceeded to transform the pub into a modern bar and lounge, with yours truly taking up the position of bar manager.
The previous owners. John and Mrs Loughnanne, ran an ultra-strict and ‘respectable’ establishment, frequented by bank-managers and an ‘upmarket’ clientele.
Sundays were busy days in the pubs during Loughnanne’s reign – but Sunday trading was a tricky business. Those were the days of ‘Bona fide’ drinking, where locals were not allowed by law to drink in the pub on Sundays. This archaic law was for the benefit of ‘travellers’ and one had to live more than three miles from the pub in order to purchase an intoxicating drink.
The idea was that a weary traveller could knock on the locked door, state his credentials and if this satisfied the publican, the customer gained entry. It is fair to say that adherence to the ‘three mile rule’ left a lot to be desired! In fact, it is also safe to say that the ‘Bona Fide Licencing Law’ was the most abused law in Ireland. How and ever, the police had a job to do, and there would be frequent raids on the pubs, with the names and addresses of those ‘found on’ checked out. Both the licensee and illegal ‘found-ons’ would be prosecuted in court.
Loughnannes would be packed from after-mass until late lunchtime. John served the drinks, while Mrs Loughnanne did sentry duty upstairs. From her perch at their bedroom window she had a clear view of Main Street. Any sign of a garda and the publican’s wife would scream “Raid” down the stairs.
Everybody scampered out the back door, down the yard, through the garden and onto the banks of the river Suck … as John pored the ‘evidence’ down the sink. A perfect system, with the result that John never saw the inside of a courthouse for a breach of the licensing laws. The regulars knew the score – and even if they suspected the odd ‘false alarm’ … called because the drinking had slowed down … nobody complained!
One Sunday morning an ‘undesirable’ infiltrated the usual crowd as John opened the door. Because he was well dressed and spoke nicely, he was inside and had a pint in front of him, before John realised his big mistake. This chap was trouble and had run off to England after being involved in a big row a couple of years previously. Now, in his navy-blue suit, white shirt and red tie, he had fooled John. This returned exile was the wrong man in the wrong place!
After his second pint, the misfit became rather boisterous and the regulars were uneasy. He demonstrated that he was a well-travelled man by drinking something different. The regulars were on ‘half-ones’, pints of ale and pints of Guinness. The cuckoo in the nest insisted on ‘half and half’ – half beer and half Guinness. With his newly acquired Cockney accent, the order came across as a “pint of aff and aff.”
John made a hurried trip up the stairs. He was barely back behind the bar when the shrill call of “Raid” came from above. “All out”, says John as the escape door was unbolted.
When the all-clear (a blast on a referee’s whistle from upstairs) sounded, the regulars, being careful to dodge the ‘undesirable’, filtered back inside – to order fresh drinks.
“We are closed”, the publican told ‘yer man’ when he pounded on the back door. “I left me ‘aff n aff’ on the counter and I want it now”, the guy was yelling. John ignored him, so the rejected customer made his way out onto the street and resumed his banging on the front door’
Mrs Loughnanne raised the bottom half of the window and told the man; “we are closed – there is nobody here – stop banging on the door and go home.” “I left me aff n aff inside – and I’m not going til I get it”, the man insisted. This exchange continued for five minutes, but the man was adamant he wanted “aff n aff.”
Mrs Loughnanne went over and reached for the chamber-pot under the bed. (These were pre-ensuite days!) Being a busy morning she hadn’t had time to empty it …. until now!
She reached out the window and these were her exact words: “You want your half and half … well here’s you half and half …. half of John’s and half of mine!! And with that she emptied the contents of the ‘po’ down on top of a navy-blue suit, white shirt and red tie!!
Don’t forget
To get maximum attention, it’s hard to beat a big mistake!
