Quote:
Originally posted by stevepaa
Nothing comes close to a Guinness in a Dublin pub.
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I'll second that. One of my fondest beer-drinking memories is from a London pub, however. Whenever I'm abroad I like to try the local brews. So when in London some years ago, I felt compelled to have a bitters. A very pretty little bar maid refused to serve me. I had a hard time understanding her through her very heavy cockney accent (felt like I was in a remake of My Fair Lady), but the gist of her argument was I would never finish it because it was very much an aquired taste. We argued, politely, for some time before she offered to fill a shot glass for me. If I could finish that, she would pull a pint for me. Well I damn near spit it out accross the bar at my first taste. Holy crap; the best description I can come up with would be stale vinegar with mold growing on top. How do they drink that crap? Anyway, she started laughing, and then her accent totaly dissapeared. She looked at me rather matter-of-factly and said in a very plain Mid-Western twang "I grew up in Chicago and have been here for ten years and I still can't drink that crap". She then pulled a pint of Guinness, on the house, and all was well in my beer drinking world once again.