Militia Canteen, Uxbridge, Middlesex   2 comments


Two guys that looked to be up to no good dove through a gate as I was photographing the Militia Canteen ahead of entering.  I had been running since the Vine and kept missing my turns so came up a street I hadn’t previously scouted.  Sweaty and out of breath despite wearing skimpy shorts and a t-shirt in the cool early Autumn evening, I met the landlord across the bar.  He didn’t speak.  I nodded toward a tap and requested, “pint of cider, please.”

“Symonds'” he growl-questioned back, the second syllable rising as if to imply, “you’re as daft as you fucking look.”

“Sure, what the hell?” I asked, then as he lifted the glass to spout, “WAIT!”  He stepped back as if electrocuted.  “Why do you ask?”  He cocked his head to about 2:00 o’clock with that same expression your dog gives you when you’ve just told them a filthy joke.  I continued, “I mean, what else do you have?”  As it was only Strongbow, I stuck with my original weirdo’s order and took it outside to leave the appropriately dressed gents to talk manly shit.

I was listening to my suspected ne’er-do-wells a couple of tables over while I made a grocery list (burrito night — I don’t know how that information would have played with either group).  They were on about Brexit with one asking the other two (as there were now three of them and another buddy playing the fruit machine inside) if they’ve seen any downturn in any of their businesses.  No, of course not, hardly anyone has, and I chimed in with my opinion that the only reason ANY economic downturn happened is because of the petty moaning of the people getting rich off the working man (I haven’t mentioned this, but Labour could have me as a candidate if they wanted me…as a Unite member, I’m a Labour affiliate already).

“You’re an American,” one of the first two I spotted said, or asked, or insinuated.  “You should come sit with us.”

“Actually, I’m one of you, now,” and for the rest of the drink my status as a Brit, the sad state of the States (election year stuff), the EU and NAFTA, immigration and Brexit, and pubs to visit in the vicinity (or not to visit: “the Load of Hay?  More like the Load of Shit”).

I’m getting luck with pub visits, lately.  One of every three is a keeper.  Last night, the Shaftesbury and tonight the Canteen.  Hopefully, I’ll get back by before it closes down in a couple of months.





Posted September 23, 2016 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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2 responses to “Militia Canteen, Uxbridge, Middlesex

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  1. Pingback: Fig Tree, Uxbridge, Middlesex | The Endless British Pub Crawl continues...

  2. Pingback: Load of Hay, Uxbridge, Middlesex | The Endless British Pub Crawl continues...

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