I don’t understand, what is it something I said? This is so unexpected, last week I was in you and we seemed so happy. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but do you have to end it all so sudden?
I found out, with less than a week before it happens, that Ride bar on Foreman Street is closing this weekend. Over the past few I years I have met many wonderful characters in that little bar, and made many marvelous friends. It’s the sort of place where you could go, without arranging to meet people, and know that you’ll not be alone. When we would ask each other, “Shall we go for a pint?”, we just assumed we were going to Ride. If you’re reading this, and you’ve frequented ride, I can guarantee you have a photo with a distinctive red hue, synonymous with Ride’s “patio” area. We’ve all played beer lottery, or asked the question “What’s the Becks like today?” in an accusing manner. Will it have a weird banana taste, or am I going to be exclaiming “The Beer’s actually OK today!”
Need to go to the toilet? It’s just up the stai…no not them stairs, they take you back outside, the spiral stairs just here….watch you hea…oh. You alright?
Out the back door, and to your left, you had your prime seating, in my opinion. Only because it had the heater, even if 90% of the time it didn’t work. A total of about eight stools. Stools that had the ability to cut off the blood supply to your legs after a while. Rickety; wobblier than a child in a supermarket being denied sweets.
The bar staff, bless their cotton socks, some of the most miserable, yet at the same time friendliest and most welcoming, people I’ve ever encountered working in a bar. Probably why the little bar was so popular, you didn’t just feel like a customer, you felt part of a family. I can’t really thank the guys there enough for the past few years, and whilst this is just my own personal little ode to Ride, I’m sure there are many more, with far greater memories than I.
Peace out, Ride.
By Johnny Banks
