Screaming for a pint

A few days ago I went for a Sunday brunch to Smokies, a much spoken about pub at one end of the city. Having heard a lot about the microbrewery Doolally that served some 5 odd varieties of pints, at Smokies it was a must-visit for me. A die-hard lover of beer could not possibly afford to miss such a liquid extravaganza.

The pub was pretty good with a rather large bar counter, a mix of comfortable sofas and rather uncomfortable stools, a glass enclosure housing the beer brewing equipment and not to forget a heady aroma of freshly brewed beer.

The sorely discomforting feature about Smokies was the music blaring at over 90 dB over a semi-professional JBL PA System, making conversations a torturous effort. I could barely hear my companions sitting across the table at a grand distance of 2 feet.

I for one rarely land up at pubs, discotheques and the likes for the very reason that most of my peers make a beeline for – excessively loud music rendering verbal conversation nearly useless.

Interacting with several peers led me to understand the two critical factors that drove them to places like Thousand Oaks, Pallazio, Smokies among others. Music and ‘the crowd’. Simply put these hot-spots were buzzing with people who loved loud music and wanted to exchange glances with members of the opposite sex.

A workplace colleague found it amusing that I was interested in neither. Urged by his insistence I had stepped in to Smokies where I got some of the best beer I have gulped but nor did I enjoy the music and neither did I exchange glances with the several skimpily clad women.

Sitting at the table, facing a medley of posters of rock music icons and sipping on a wonderful German Wheat pint I wondered, ‘Whatever happened to good old chit-chat?’ My companions across the table were too busy screaming into each others’ ears to see my mixed expression of love for the beer and dislike for the din.

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