Distillers, Hammersmith, London   1 comment

Distillers Hammersmith sign


The Distillers was a bit more trendy than pubs I usually go to, but the music was good and the beer choices quite nice. The art plastered around was derivative, childish, and twee but I would have forgiven it with an ironic nod and wink if at any time during the visit “White Man in Hammersmith Palais” (which had wormed its way into my head, hence my hunger for ironic release) had been played.

Not that the earworm would have been exorcised, but at least it might have drowned out the bleating, enforced laughs of the work and school colleagues trapped out for drinks with one another. I acquired an East London Brewery Nightwatchman (pro-tip: seek out this beer…it is divine), and studied the room.



Distillers Hammersmith painfully trendy


All of them, everyone in this crowded bar, seemed to be projecting a happiness at each other’s presence (a happiness made all to obviously absent by the effort expelled). Unblinking eyes held in a wide stare in the direction of eye contact but focused on a point about a foot and a half farther back; eager, rapidly jerking nods as if they had actually listened to a word their droning compatriot had spoken; neck pushed painfully forward to place the head somewhat over the centre of gravity.  Drama coaches should be brought in to show their students this lack of subtlety and to point out that this is not at all how it is done by real people who really are happy to be out together.



Distillers Hammersmith beer


And, that’s when I realized it: I was in a den of the Lizard People. It was probably my presence that sent them into this panicked caricature of human behaviour — the rictus grins, the overly animated laughs or pretend looks of concern. Indeed, Lizard People or maybe, I conceded, this is just how the young adults of today behave when they are away from their devices for periods over ten minutes.

Then, the Lizard People hypothesis was confirmed. One large table of these beasts was joined by a middle-aged couple. The one wearing the flesh of a human male picked up the empty bottle of wine and inspected it then awkwardly (despite the body language and forceful tone meant to indicate confidence and authority) started asking each in turn if they would like another drink, another drink, another drink?

Distillers Hammersmith painfully trendy 2

This sort of shit is why I hate the term “Artist” as much as “Poet”


An actual human professor (and most other humans of about my age and — dare I say it — social status) MIGHT have asked if anyone was having more drinks without directing the question to any one person nor really listening to the answer.  Then, he or she would appear a few minutes later with two bottles — of the plonk the kids had split earlier and another actually drinkable bottle — plus some random pints and nibbles. “Dr X, I wasn’t drinking bitter,” perhaps one of them would protest. “Well, you are now, bucko,” would be a likely reply or, possibly, the prof would menacingly pick up the glass, glare at the student or post-doc, then wink before downing it sloppily in one go.

But, these were aliens and who knows what wine goes with live rats?

Distillers Hammersmith


Posted September 2, 2016 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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One response to “Distillers, Hammersmith, London

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  1. Pingback: Walnut Tree, Yeading, Middlesex | The Endless British Pub Crawl continues...

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