The first beer I ordered was out of stock. The old gentleman to the left of me let loose with a resounding bit of gas at a truly astonishing frequency! The two "gentlemen" to my right were discussing the horses with a vocabulary that consisted of fewer than ten words beyond a four letter euphemysm for intercourse. I sat at least ten minutes waiting for service of a second glass. Half a dozen televisions above the bar were all tuned to the same channel ... A horse race. Beer is beer, to be sure, but this was a truly unimpressive pub.
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