The Old Vic, Fishergate, Preston

Some years ago, when I first started at the Evening Post, I was sent into town on a Saturday afternoon to get a poll of people’s opinions on a subject, known as a vox pop.
I can’t remember what the subject was, but I do very vividly remember it raining, being freezing cold and windy, which meant people were not in the mood for talking to the likes of me.
Try as I might to sound enthusiastic and engaging as the wind battered my face and chilled my soul, I could barely squeeze an opinion out of anybody.
Suddenly without me knowing, another part of my brain kicked in and took over proceedings.
Moments later people were spewing out opinions like they were going out of fashion – ‘And another thing…’
Within minutes I was approaching the required number of views when a stern voice cut me off mid-patter.
‘What do you think you are doing?’, the barman asked as I interrogated one of his customers.
‘I’m from the Evening Post I’m just having a chat with people to get a few views for Monday’s paper’.
He stood staring at me arms folded, clearly unimpressed.
‘Why do you mind?’ I asked.
‘Bit late now if I do ain’t it pal’ he barked back.
‘Fair enough well I’m done now anyway, see you later’ I replied, before skipping out of the The Old Vic, with a pledge to myself, I would not return.
People say I am a stubborn chap but I can categorically state this is absolutely not true.
But return I did not, for quite some years until when I was walking past one day I realised the barman had been well within his rights to be miffed and was simply doing his job properly by challenging odd folk like me stalking about the place.
So, after snacking on a big slice of humble pie and custard, I went back to see what I had been missing.
I immediately regretted having given the place a wide birth for so long.
Inside, the pub is adorned with wooden beams and features, which under many coats of paint, look authentic and unaltered.
It is much bigger inside than its frontage suggests but, with separate seating areas around the central bar, it feels nicely cosy.
There are also plenty of television screens dotted around the pub which show live sport including 3D football, the merits of which I am yet to be convinced.
Having already achieved most of my limited criteria, I was also pleased there was a good selection of real ales and I sat down with a pint from the Three B’s Brewery in Blackburn, delighted at having found a bit of a gem on my doorstep.
I just wish I’d swallowed my pride earlier.
Is that stubborn?