The Three Horseshoes opens at 10 am but you needn’t expect good service. When I trundled in, the manager was on the phone discussing scheduling with an employee who obviously couldn’t give a shit whether or not he or she was ever scheduled again and yet, with a paying customer sitting right there this manager persisted with his conversation for more than 5 more minutes rather than say, “hey, there’s someone here, give me two ticks.” The “I don’t give a fuck” attitude has to come from somewhere, and I think I may have found the source.
I ordered a Veltins because I reckoned I would never see it again then realised it will probably turn up in a bar on my German trip this summer. The price was £3.95 … extortionate, but at least he proceeded to shortchange me before walking off to talk to someone else. The accent was vaguely French as was his attitude to the customer, but I think maybe he’s Romanian. Regardless, the proprietors are probably in some form of organised crime and I didn’t feel like pushing my luck too much and, rather, just accepted the 10p shortfall while the most dreadful Europop you can possibly imagine encouraged me to keep my drinking on pace.
To be fair, I could see that the guy was streaming music shows from the net and during one of the times he was ignoring me he changed from the Eurotrash programme to the Dermot O’Leary ‘Saturday Sessions’ which is a slight improvement. I feel bad complaining about this bar since it has early doors, but it really is predominantly yuppie in theme. I also feel bad complaining about ‘yuppies’ since if I had made one single correct step in my youth I could easily have become one of them. I needed fresh air and a different venue….