Underage drinking – My sob story

the butchers arms pub

I was 17, and I was hanging around with the older boys and could get into most of the local pubs, even though the landlords knew I was underage.  I wasn’t the type of drinker that would get drunk and rowdy, I was more likely to get drunk and fall asleep on the table.

But there was one local pub. The Butchers Arms.  And the landlord had a reputation for making sure that nobody under 18 was allowed in, he was very strict and was always throwing people out he thought were underage. But it was the place to be on a Friday night, everybody from the village used to go up there for the discos.

I was out with the boys one Friday night in the Rock pub, they decided to go up to the butchers, I told them I probably wouldn’t get in, but they said not to worry and to walk in with them, and they would take it in turns to get my drinks for me.

We got up the Butchers there were about 8 of us, I walked in between them all without a problem, there was nowhere to sit, the place was always packed, one of the boys got me a drink, and we all stood around the little dance floor.

I had just finished my second pint, and was feeling a bit confident, so I went up to the bar myself to order a drink, the girl behind the bar served me, I was chuffed. I went back to the boys and stood by the dance floor, but then I could see the landlord talking to the girl behind the bar and looking over to where I was standing.

The landlord walked toward towards me, he stood right in front of me, looked at me and then looked at my pint.

He took the pint out of my hand and said “You’re not 18 and you shouldn’t be in here. You need to leave now!”

I was shocked, but I had had a few pints, so was a bit cocky. I said, “I am, I was 18 last month, the girl behind the bar just served me, ask her”

“No your not” he said, “You don’t even look 18, and I asked her, she said she wasn’t sure, but she thought you might be.”

He put my pint down on the table, and pointed to the door.  He looked at me and said “I don’t think you are 18, and its my pub, so what I say goes. Out now! ”

I pleaded with him “Honest I am, 18, ask the boys “

I turned to all the boys, and they all told him I was 18. He paused for a while as if he was contemplating it and was going to let me stay, but then he asked me if I had any identification on me to prove my age.  I told him my passport was in the house, he told me to go home and get it then come back, and if I were 18, he would pour me a fresh pint.

He grabbed my arm and was leading me to the door, I was still pleading with him that I was 18, he just said “Go home get your passport and then come back, but for now I am not serving you in my pub”

I started crying.

He stopped halfway to the door, I was sobbing and begging him  “I am 18, honest I am. Please don’t chuck me out”

He looked at me, and turned around to the boys who could see it all, the boys looked at me and could see I was in tears, and they all turned around quickly and walked to the other side of the bar. The rest of the pub were all watching too.

As we were by the door, I was still crying, and still begging for him to let me stay. And just before he threw me out he said.

“Listen mate, you’re crying like a baby, and at the same time you’re telling me you’re 18. Think about it. Look at the state of you. Don’t bother bringing your passport up. I could see your still a kid!”

I went back to the Rock Pub; It was empty in there.

The next day I seen the boys, they were all laughing at me. And they made me promise that I would never cry in a pub again if I was out with them.

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