Life In The Hare And Hounds
Another Delightful Gem Of A Pub In Sheffield

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Introduction by Christmas DiCanio
Being, myself an annoying short Italian, I like to see things to my liking and no-one else's. I like things a little seedy and a little busy, where murky people are too busy to speak to each other is the best atmosphere for a man like me! Busy is best and busy is my middle name, after Alfonse. I like to keep myself busy.

Being a busy little man, I like my music loud. Loud busy music is the best.
I don't care if the music is lousy. As long as it's loud.
I like the Seedy English pubs best, and I can slip in and out. I have a short temper, and I don't like quiet music.

I have a friend Steve. "Friend Steve", I shout, "don't like the busy loud pubs do you?"
Steve doesn't like the busy pubs, No he likes only the quiet busy pubs.

I like to get drunk and Shout, I like to get drunk and shout at the D.J. " you are crap " and I push people out of the way if I have to. Yeah I am but small, I can push. I push with a jab in the small of his back, ah ha! - " you spill your drink "
Ah ha they do'n like it, they don't like that no!
I sometimes get into a fight, but I always come off the worse in the pub. I am angry but no raging bull.
 

--Pub Profile--
The Hair And Hounds is within Sheffield's inner ring road, but just off the beaten track. It is frequented with market traders and working class people. It has an old fashioned tiled exterior.
Built 200 years ago it still keeps full with regulars, despite the depressed area in which it stands. The landlord is a former policeman, who's ambition was to run a pub, with his own ideal brand of music. Many of the regulars new him when he was coppering, and hold him in a shabby kind of respect, but wouldn't trust him an inch..

When I am Drunk, I am free and I can think.
I was a little boy and I could think just like this.

The Men And The Women
Some of the people who come in this pub look as if they are already dead. The middle aged women who come in later, are dressed tartily, and two of them, I know, used to be prostitutes, before their youth and looks faded. Still thin, helped in part, by a chain smoking diet of king size cigarettes, they often sport large ugly pieces of jewellery, Have enough makeup on their face to cover over the san andreas fault, and wear their hair in an unnatural glowing colour represented by a cheap " kitchen sink " dye. They cake on their lipstick so thick that all the smaller glasses in the establishment have to be purposefully wiped around the rim before they are put into the dishwasher for the normal cleaning cycle.
     The men are dressed in once expensive and stylish suits, often with an old regimental pin on the lapel, and Italian shoes. But they are worn out. The Italian shoes are fifteen years old and starting to split down their seams, and the suit has thread hanging down at the back where the lining is coming away. And the pockets have gone in the trousers, due to the keys ( see below ) which means that small change often rolls down the inside leg, and dumps itself onto the floor.
     Even though they're wearing an old suit, they are wearing a taxi driver's diamond patterned jumper underneath, with often unidentifiable protein stains down the front and often a pull, or small hole down near where the belt buckle often pokes through.
     They eat bacon and egg sandwiches every morning and spill the yolk down their knitwear, whilst sitting in their shabby car which has fag ash spilling out of the ash tray out onto the floor, and long dead lavender, stuck on, round, toilet freshener on the dashboard above. And there is so much metallic crap, hanging from the ignition key, that with every bite, it chinks and jingles.
     Most of the men in here are well qualified in the beer drinker's nose club. They posses a bulbous flowery organ, that advertises the fact that the host has spent a lifetime drinking heavily. And the accompanying thread veins and blood vessels showing through thinning skin, on the face. A ruddy complexion, chewed up puffy ears and sausage fingers are further clues to the state of their circulation.
The Pub Music
The music in this pub is the loudest in the city. I don't know how much they pay the D.J. but they certainly get their value for money, because he's on duty from 5.30pm to midnight every day, perhaps he should be serving at the bar? I don't know. The sound system consists of loads of speakers that are piled right up to the ceiling. There is a regular kareoke, and you can stand on the excellent small stage, replete with red curtains.
     He's obviously a fan of Chubby Brown, as every third record is a chubby brown tape excerpt. The other records however, consist of sixties pop music, Elvis, The Beatles and Roy Orbison " The Big O "...
Their is no chance of conversing while the music is playing, as it is brain crushingly loud. These people are obviously Hooligans and Ex Hooligans. Most men there wear their hair greased with Brylcream. And some of them have stolen goods for sale.

Divorcees Corner
Almost every pub in this town has a " Divorcees Division " , or " Mid life Crisis Corner " , an end of the bar where the bitter, divorced men spend the whole evening, talking to the landlord, or each other, about how badly their divorce is progressing, or what a bitch the ex wife has become.
     This is the time when they used to be found eating their tea, with the family and watching telly after, but now they spend it looking through the bottom of a foamy glass. Often they start by going to the pub for their evening meal, ( so they don't have to cook for themselves, or do the washing up! ) and over the months their patronage extends to the whole evening right until closing time. And finally, as they virge on full blown alcoholism, without bothering with the meal at all. These men are most likely to a) run off with the barmaid, b) drink and drive c) attempt suicide d) go for a drink after work e) get married again [ even though they say they're not ]

Most common topics of conversation and threads of sentences are as follows :-
 

1. I never hit my wife
2. I don't know who he is, but if he touches the kids..
3. My suitcase was on the doorstep
4. She fell in with a crowd of feminists
5. She's not getting anything
6. I'm going to make her life, not worth living
7. I wish I'd changed the locks
8. I was at work, earning money, so she could go abroad
9. You can't live with them or without them
10. It's that solicitor's fault
11. she used to throw pots and pans at me
12. She couldn't cook
13. It's her mother's fault
14. They're not the same when they're married
15. I still get on with the father in law
16. It was her that wanted kids
17. I miss the dog more
18. she put 2 grand on the credit card before I cut it up
19. I got her that job !

These pathetic men often speak quietly at first, however before long they feel great empathy for each other, and give unwelcome advice out to people who are just about to get married. It is always very sad to see them. They are always in the way when the pub fills up later, and they never sit down. They often stand in the gap in the bar, so they are in the way of the barstaff, or glass collectors as well!

Life In The Hare And Hounds

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After what happened on 15th January 2000, I confirm in writing, that the Hair and Hounds public house, is not situated in Chesterfield, Derbyshire, England. And I issue a formal and public apology to Mr. Les Smith.