It’s too bright in here, sleaze is so much better when its inferred, dirt more glamorous in the dark and, for the right class of degenerates, it’s more comfortable when people can’t quite make out your features. 5 years ago a place like this would have been full of smoke, every stranger more than 5 yards away becoming Jack th Ripper emerging from a Victorian pea-souper. What we gained in health we lost in atmosphere.

‘Mate, do you want a game of pool?’ a small skinhead interrupts my train of thought, i say i’m ok thanks and he leaves with a nod.

I’m obviously sitting near a speaker because the vibrations through the table have caused the beer to slowly froth out of the bottle in a firm white foam. The last time I heard the song that is playing was about ten years ago and is angry and loud but to me speaks of youth and the naked joy of shedding school and finding a family hidden in dark bars.

And the crowd shouts along ‘you can suck my dick and fucking like it’

The difference in Britain between what we call bars and what we call pubs is more of an idealogical one than something based on layout, music or, some cynics would point out, price. It boils down to this – if your going to hide amongst friends, its a pub. If your going to be seen amongst strangers, its a bar. Bars are home to scene, pubs house communities.

The music stops because the DJ is at the bar chatting and everybody shouts ‘IAN!’

After a few beers the volume and vibration from the speakers have started to feel like a hot bath, normally when in a pub (or bar) on my I spend my time people watching, and the first thing to do when people watching is figure out the power relationships, the alpha male and queen bitch etc. I’m pretty good too, but in here I can’t see it. Reading body language is a lot easier when people are trying to appear relaxed when compared to actually being relaxed.

On my way out I may eye contact with the skinhead from earlier and he gives me the devil horns hand gesture as a goodbye