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DRESS CODE

The bouncers won’t let me wear what I like

They think they have a nightclub

They told me to go and take a hike

From an ordinary little pub.

I could get in with steel toe-capped boots

And wearing designer business suits

If I was going to give someone a kickin;’

I’d do more damage with a Doc Martin

Than with my trainers on in there.

It was a good pub once, but now its gone.

They let me in no matter what I had on.

Now I’m happy to take my night out elsewhere

In a pub where no one cares what I wear

And I can get in without a tie.

It’s a shame when madness makes a good pub die.

(The Poem was inspired by a visit to the Wetherspoons Bar in Manchester, (see my web page on PUBS IN MANCHESTER) where they have a dress code normally associated with snobbish night-clubs. I sent a copy of the poem to the pub management. They never replied. Wonder why).