|As close as I got with my camera out.|
This time I had actually heard a bit about this place from random sources. The best one I heard was about a friend who upon arrival, opened the door to have a glass thrown in his face by someone who was allegedly trying to run from the police.
I decided I had probably best take a little extra muscle on this trip, namely, some American muscle. Hey, I figured if the game got messy, I probably wouldn't be the first to get put down... My partner in crime for the afternoon would be the ominous Tyler Kiley, of 'Mr Foleys', soon to be of 'Friends of Ham' fame.
We decided to start the afternoon by limbering up at North Bar, then to head down to Whitelocks as it was en-route to the Duncan. It seems Tyler's reputation precedes him, and was bought a free pint, and a shot of tequila in North bar once he sat down, by some friendly gentlemen may I add.
Having never been to the Duncan before (either of us) we weren't really sure what to expect. Neither of us knew that it was a Sam Smith's pub, that's for sure.... we do now.
I told Tyler there was a certain etiquette to be had before arrival. I told him the plan usually goes; go in, see what's not great looking on the bar, order a half, drink it as quick as possible whilst keeping eyes down and finally visit the gents before leaving to get the full effect. Tyler got his phone out right away however, and started taking a few snaps...
|Ghostie, trying to work out what the hell those spirits were...|
I was certainly enjoying the size of the 'incident book' stuck by the till, it was about the size of a referee notebook with about two pages left in it. Tyler wanted to play darts. I didn't think they would be very sharp any more... After listening to a curious looking woman shout for a bit, we had one last quick look around and decided it best to take our leave.
We then headed back to Mr Foleys for burgers and pints of Magic Rock Curious. Intact, emboldened and heads held high.
What a day!