Picture from Nottstalgia
The Horse and Groom is now the only pub on Radford Road, something I touched upon in an old blog, yet is one that I have never been in. We walk past it quite a bit and I have always fancied giving it a go as I do like a proper pub and there are precious few of those left. My dad and I like to have a drink in The Dog and Partridge, a pub in Nottingham city centre that is stuck in a different time. It's the sort of place that people probably think is intimidating and as such will never go in and never find out that they are missing out on a friendly and nonthreatening atmosphere where people just want to enjoy themselves.
Last night to round off my dad's birthday we went for a drink at the Horse and Groom, which is roughly at the half way point between both of our houses, another reason why we should perhaps have been in before. I arrived first into a fairly empty pub that wasn't unlike a Working Men Club, the bar man was friendly and attentive, and knew what every person who walked in was drinking which is the sign of a good host. This is the sort of place that makes me miss working in pubs, but only proper ones. I used to enjoy chatting to regulars and sharing news and gossip, I especially used to like (for some reason) working down the cellar and doing all the barrel changing, stock ordering and the Sunday morning line cleaning. In those days I didn't even mind working weekends although Bank Holiday Mondays were always a bit sad because it was a full working day and everyone else was able to have an all day session but thankfully I only ever did one Christmas Day shift so I shouldn't really complain.
The strangest thing about last night though was to come a bit later. There was a chalk board advertising various attractions, Sunday nights belong to DJ Pat and his sounds of the 1960s, 1970s and the 1980s from half past eight onwards. I assumed that the pub filled for this and Sunday was the night to enjoy some dance floor fillers from the decades and the Horse and Groom was the epicentre of discotheque enjoyment. Unfortunately for Pat, this wasn't the case and Fatboy Slim can stop worrying about being knocked off his perch. DJ Pat's assortment of pop classics was exclusively for an audience of about ten people, only two were dancing. Saddest of all was DJ Pat's total belief in himself as the biggest DJ in the world by trying to jolly up the 'crowd' by introducing the songs as if he was addressing thousands of people. My pity turned into admiration towards the end though as it occurred to me that we had something in common, he didn't give a shit about numbers, or about the possibility of looking foolish in front of people. DJ Pat's disco roadshow wasn't a sad old man trying to be a cool DJ, he was the best artist in the world for a few hours performing a conceptual art piece that only I understood.
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