A pub in St Albans has come under fire for putting up a sign that reads, “Dog-friendly, child-free”. One drinker, called Kyle, posted a photograph of himself next to said sign with the caption: “Found my new local/” It sparked a heated debate: is “the pub” an appropriate environment for children?
Social media, and a couple of news segments on television channels, were typically lacking in nuance. Not all pubs are created equal. A quiet country bolthole serving roast dinners on a Sunday afternoon is not the same as a boozer in Croydon on a Friday night. It is not difficult to work out which would most likely create a more inviting atmosphere for a 10-year-old.
I grew up in a pub half the time. My dad owned one in Carshalton and I’d be there a lot of the time. He kicked kids out at 6pm sharp and generally they were only really allowed in if eating. I wasn’t even technically allowed in the public bar when really young. If he saw me sitting under a table drawing a picture of a heron, he’d tell me to go upstairs. Usually I’d ignore him. And then by 11 or 12, there was no getting rid of me; by 13, I was working in the kitchen anyway, chopping vegetables and washing up, and by 16 I was serving behind the bar under a pub apprenticeship scheme which I can’t imagine any longer exists.
My dad always said to me, “If I’m not there and there’s a fight, call the police and tell them someone’s handed you a fake £20 note. They’ll be there in a flash. Don’t say there’s a fight going on, they’ll take ages”
My dad’s pub was a relatively friendly space — Carshalton is a fairly average South London suburb and nothing much ever really happens. Fights were uncommon and if a flurry of pool cue-based anger did spark up, they were quickly dealt with. My dad always said to me, “If I’m not there and there’s a fight, call the police and tell them someone’s handed you a fake £20 note. They’ll be there in a flash. Don’t say there’s a fight going on, they’ll take ages”.
I still witnessed far more than I would have had I been in a house playing a games console, for example. I saw all manner of unsavoury goings on: a Frenchman pick up a table and throw it at the band in the corner; a man put a knife into the tyres of my dad’s BMW; instances where women would be treated disgracefully.
Ultimately, city centre pubs are simply not appropriate for children. We can reminisce and become romantic about the old days, put on our rose-tinted specs and think about families wandering into their community boozers on any given evening; remember times bygone where a man would prop up the bar and his wife would walk in, kids in tow, have a quick half then take the family home for a hearty stew.
All of it is all nonsense in the modern world. Kids are loud and vulnerable, slapdash and chaotic. For the most part. And they are unpredictable. Pubs are places where adults go to get merry, chatter, smoke cigarettes and eat chips. Chances are at least three or four people will be salacious, and more still will be hoping to find a partner of some kind. People can be aggressive because they’re insecure and boring.
I think there are exceptions. A residential local on your own street: fine, maybe bring your kids. In the countryside, in a charming village: also fine, often, especially when you know the owners. There’s a welcoming side here and a case-by-case basis can’t hurt.
In London and surrounds? Absolutely not. These are no places for children. Bringing them as a parent is irresponsible.
