Leafing through a dictionary can be enlightening, much more rewarding than browsing a phone book. A directory I receive annually is as good to peruse as a lexicon. The almanac in question is the ever changing Yellow Pages. Businesses come and businesses go, Old Yeller is a listings manna manual.
Ever since my bachelor days I’ve wallowed in the bile of its jaundiced pages. Back in the day a pact was formed between a friend and I to visit every one of the bars listed under Public Houses. The only condition in our endeavour was that two pints had to be consumed by each of us in every hostelry. This stipulation covered the anomaly of the different prices of beer sold in the various outlets. Bluntly speaking, neither of us wanted to pay more than the other and the two-pint rule made all things equal.
It was evident from the start that we were going to be unsuccessful in our venture. A casual glance at the list of venues informed us that some of the places would be too dangerous to visit. We tried to tell ourselves that these hell-holes weren’t really pubs but the Yellow Pages had them listed and nobody can argue with them. Ignoring the disreputable taverns we attempted to cover the rest in a haphazard non-alphabetical way.
It would be impossible to complete this challenge in a month never mind a day and we gave ourselves six months to finish the task; a six month pub crawl, if you will. Halfway through the journey was when the inevitable stresses and discomforts set in. The demand of drinking one pint of flat beer in a slimy saloon and knowing another would have to be drowned was gut-churning. Many cases of blind drunkenness made us forget if we’d been in the Inn we were in or not. Both of us were non-spirit tipplers and the constant bombardment of beer had destroyed our palates. Our legs had done a lot of walking and it was time to give up the ghost. We cancelled our quest, ironically, at Shackleton’s.
Boadicea's Chariot 
The challenge in Edinburgh half a century ago, and possibly still,judging by the scenes of total carnage there on a Saturday night, was to stop in every one of the eighteen or so pubs in Rose Street, and see how far down the street you could walk, resisting the charms (or not) of what are now referred to, in p.c. jargon, as street workers…
“The only condition in our endeavour was that two pints had to be consumed by each of us in every hostelry. This stipulation covered the anomaly of the different prices of beer sold in the various outlets. Bluntly speaking, neither of us wanted to pay more than the other and the two-pint rule made all things equal.”
Aye, weeel, there’s a Weegie welcome for ye! 🙂 Having said that, JW, you think you would no doubt sympathise with my own lamented single-bloke status. In a round these days, I buy the couple a drink each and the couple then buys me a drink back and think all is fine, the tag-teaming, two-timing barstewards, especially when there’s four or five couples with the Lone Wolf at the table! 😦 I’m still working on the practical financial repercussions of this anomoly, not to mention the potential social impact.
OZ
It’d probably be nearer 118 pubs before any one would be tempted by one of those Embra blooters, CWJ. You’re right about the traditions of having a pint in every pub in a main street. Easier now, I think, as there’s not as many pubs as previously.
Another competition, and I’ll quickly say that drinking games are dangerous and should not be tried, we had was to have a drink in every round from a different country e.g. Grolsch from the Netherlands, Pilsner from the Czech republic etc. All fine and well until the spirits come into it.
That’s another fine mess you’re in there, OZ, the 2 V 1 Blockbusters challenge. Completely unfair when the team with the extra man pool their round into one. Agreeing to buy your own drinks is not very sociable but maybe there’s another solution, again an old favourite. As it nears your shout, pretend, using Blockbusters mentality, that you need a pee. Hopefully by the time you return the couple will have replenished the drinks or gone home.
🙂
Mine’s a G&T
Never mind that, Pseu, you should be on the Champagne. Congrats again on your fine win. I’ll break into song for you.
♪♫ She keeps Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet ♪♫
Those were the days, JW. A good old fashioned pub crawl.
Sadly, you can do do this at home. Have you heard of pre-drinks?
This is so much cheaper. The idea is, you organise a gathering at the house of a parent with a well stocked drinks cabinet. You then consume as much of this as possible before moving on the the house of another unsuspecting and frankly idiotic parent.
Then you go out for the evening.
Super!