By
Rob
We
headed into town that night, after having sufficiently pre-drank and
walked off the resultant calories. Before going to the usual haunts,
we figured we could tick one final pub off. As such, we went to The
Washington.
It was a pretty weird place inside. Despite definitely being a pub, it was almost nothing like one. Or at least, 50% of it looked nothing like one. The left-hand side was fairly standard, with a bar and seating. The other half, however, contained a dancefloor area that looked rather like a converted garage. On one side of the pub, people were sat on bar stools, sipping pints of beer, while just six feet away students were flinging themselves around with their vodka mixers to the thump, thump, thump of not-very-pub-like music.
We each ordered a pint of Moonshine, a popular pale ale from Abbeydale Brewery. I'm not the world's biggest pale ale fan, as I tend to prefer slightly darker beers, but I've always been partial to a pint of Moonshine, which I think is testament to the beer's light taste and its immense drinkability (Shakespeare made up his own words, so why can't I?). Sipping our pints, we crossed the Pub-Nightclub Parallel – the invisible dividing line that separated the two halves of The Washington – and stepped into the bizarre garage dance hall.
Sitting with his back against the wall, amidst all the music and grooving, was COWBOY KEITH! Our enigmatic friend with the wide-brimmed hat was nursing a Guinness and looking as sharp as ever. The Washington, it transpired, was a favourite of his.
We each ordered a pint of Moonshine, a popular pale ale from Abbeydale Brewery. I'm not the world's biggest pale ale fan, as I tend to prefer slightly darker beers, but I've always been partial to a pint of Moonshine, which I think is testament to the beer's light taste and its immense drinkability (Shakespeare made up his own words, so why can't I?). Sipping our pints, we crossed the Pub-Nightclub Parallel – the invisible dividing line that separated the two halves of The Washington – and stepped into the bizarre garage dance hall.
Sitting with his back against the wall, amidst all the music and grooving, was COWBOY KEITH! Our enigmatic friend with the wide-brimmed hat was nursing a Guinness and looking as sharp as ever. The Washington, it transpired, was a favourite of his.
It
also transpired that Cowboy Keith is not actually a cowboy, but is in fact a dental support worker. After some
discussion, we all agreed that Dental Support Worker Keith didn't quite have the same
ring to it. He suggested that we could just call him Keith, which we
explained was an even more ridiculous idea. We settled on Cowboy Keith.
Pub:
The Washington (79
Fitzwilliam Street, S1 4JP)
Rating:
7/10
Pint:
Moonshine
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