Wednesday 12th July 2006

Ah, the pub lock-in. What a strange and beautiful beast it is, and in these legislative times one that had been hunted to the point of near extinction. No-one knows where this creature lives, or indeed why it visits so randomly and seldomly, but when it does grace us with it's divine presence we can be sure that it will slink away back into the jungle leaving behind beguiling tales of nocturnal madness and misty memories of very happy times. You don't see the animal leave, it disappears into the night as unpredictably as it arrived, and you're in no state to wish it farewell or to thank it, but I think it gets it's satisfaction from knowing it has provided you with an outstanding evening down at the pub, and it will go away to rest, or visit others to bestow upon them it's gift, but you can be sure that one day it will return.

The Pub Lock In. Four words to inspire, celebrate, and worship. Mention a lock in to anyone and they'll immediately come back at you with tales of times down the pub that could never occur during regular licensing hours. The pub lock in is like being seven and having a secret midnight feast in a cupboard with a friend, it's naughty and different and fun, but this time it's accompanied with booze and barmaids.

How does a lock-in happen? Well the first rule is - it can't be planned. A lock-in has to be impromptu, otherwise it's like going to a party. The beauty of seeing the beast's eyes in the undergrowth and watching it appear (i.e. seeing the landlord is enjoying himself and not hurrying his trusted customers to the door) is all part of the joyful and sacred process. Seeing the lock-in take shape is all part of the giddy excitement of the event. A landlord will only ever entrust this wondrous happening to his most trusted and loyal customers, and so the first obstacle to overcome is getting the other punters out of the bar when they see you with a drink in your hand. So don't drink for a bit. You can last ten minutes. If they see you're dry too they'll leave more readily, unsuspecting of just how much is going to flow as soon as the door is bolted behind them.

Never vocally ask for a lock-in, ever. NEVER. "So Landlord, we going to have a stay behind tonight or what?" is a sure fire way of never seeing the beast appear, indeed it's the same as firing a rifle shot into the air, the animal will run for the hills and maybe never appear again. Don't even make 'cunning' visual signals to the landlord, such as looking at your watch and giving him and questioning shrug, You're not being subtle - you're drunk. And every other drinker will have picked up on your signal and then hang around at closing time hoping for a bit of the action. The landlord will be forced to call of any plans he had and you'll all be out in the cold.

Don't brag about a lock-in the next day to people who weren't involved. "You should have seen us in here last night. It was dawn when we left. Dave couldn't work the till by the end of the night and so everything was on the house. It was ace!" This will only inspire black jealousy in the heart of the recipient and they might even go so far as to ask the landlord why they're never invited to these gigs. More likely they'll just feel hurt and rejected and you don't want to do that to your fellow man, do you?

Pay for your lock-in. It's true that when you're invited for a stay behind you are guests at the landlord's private function and this will generally involve quite a few gratis drinks. It's his show and you wouldn't invite friends around to your house and expect them to pay for drinks, but the lock-in is a combination of private party and extension of normal pub rules, so put your hand in your pocket, it shows respect. And if anything it will ensure the evening last a great deal longer, no landlord wants to see the night's profits be thrown away. And yet the stay behind is a reward to loyal customers so there's generally a balance to be achieved. As a rule, one in three drinks will be free. Sometimes you can get all the drinks you want for nothing but this isn't to be expected and it's important to at least offer.

Tonight's bash was entirely unexpected, as it should be, and rather wonderfully nearly didn't happen at all. I'd invited T-A over for dinner and, over a some wine after the meal I asked if she'd like to stay here for more "or shall we nip down to The Lion for a pint?" We chose (name of pub withheld for licensing reasons) and got there about nine to see it quiet, the landlord in typically good humour, and Katie and Claire working the bar. T-A left at around closing time (work the next day and all that sort of thing) and so it was just John, myself, Katie and Claire left.

The landlord went off to bed, saying that the bar girls could have a couple of staff drinks on the house. I'm a trusted friend and regular so I was allowed to stay too, God bless him. Now this kind of landlord-free stay behind is maybe the rarest of them all. The "make sure you lock up when you leave" lock-in. It's always preferable to have the landlord amongst your company, so it's not the greatest type of lock-in, but it shows remarkable trust. It means you're part of the family.

Two drinks turned to four and, writing everything down because the till had been cashed up, we saw no good reason to leave. I made a round of gratifyingly pleasant martini's and then it was onto the scotch, a ride through the vodkas, and back to the gins. Before long it was 5am, an alarming array of glasses littered the bar, empty bottles of spirits and mixers had piled up in the bin, and we realised we'd long forgotten to write down what we'd had. Now, as we've already established, it's vital to pay your way to ensure that 1. This can happen again and 2. You're not barred for life. So we tidied everything away, quite stupendously drunk, and left £100 with a note of explanation behind the bar. £100 is a lot of money and perhaps we didn't drink that much but it's best to veer on the side of caution and it must have been in that arena. And besides, it not just about money. You're paying not drink by drink but for the privilege. We'd had a fine, fine evening - talked about Lord knows what - and seeing as the cleaner would soon be arriving, it was best to make a graceful exit safe in the knowledge that we'd not ripped the establishment off or taken too outrageous a liberty. I hope they're okay with it. Hell, if you've paid and not destroyed anything there's really no crime.

Katie came back to mine and wanted to see the river through the window in the roof. I climbed up there, fell, hit my head on the way south on the bedside table and concussed myself to the point I couldn't tell her where we'd been or who we'd been with. But that soon cleared up and I fell to bed knowing that the beast had visited, been welcomed and respected, and had made it's way back into the jungle. God bless the pub lock-in, probably the closest thing in these sterile and mundane times to nirvana.

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