A (pint) glass half full (of beer)

It is Friday afternoon and I have finished work. I turn my computer off, walk down two flights of stairs, sign out at reception, walk out the front door, across the street and use the gold-plated steel handles to pull open the heavy wooden door to the Best Pub in London.

The sound of dozens of voices in conversation, the smell of the wood, the sight of the beer taps. I scan the lineup of drought ales and choose Doom Bar.

The bartender takes a pint glass from the stack and places it under the swan neck tap, so that the sparkler is pressing against the bottom of the glass. She pulls hard on the mechanical lever and the golden ale foams up as it hits the bottom of the glass hard and splashes up its sides.

Each pull of the lever is half a pint, so the bartender takes the second pump a little slower, then adds a slight third pull on the lever to balance the size of the head with the level of the ale in the glass.

I pay my £4.80 and take my first sip. Hello weekend.


I wrote this post in response to the Daily Prompt, which is glass.



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