Hey there,
Welcome back to Thoroughly Thursday, the White Horse Edition. Many years ago, I worked in a pub in South London called the White Horse. I had moved to London for an unpaid internship in a publishing house and worked at the White Horse on nights and weekends. I was lonely, broke, usually exhausted, and a lousy bartender. On my final night before returning to the U.S., I and some other staff members were spotted by the bar owner acting like hooligans after drinking at a neighboring pub. The owner made it clear that I was only allowed to stay upstairs with the other staff for the night if it was agreed I would leave in the morning and wouldn’t come back. I sheepishly accepted.
Some 23 years later, I told that story to my daughters during our trip to London. “Well, now we have to go!” they said. There had always been a strange incompleteness about my White Horse experience, so it felt weird to return. I didn’t recognize anyone, and though the food was good, the experience was kind of “meh.” I wish I could say that I recovered fond memories of my time there or the people I worked with, or that somehow the White Horse seemed more welcoming than when I last saw it. But, it wasn’t. It was just a pub. Some places belong to the past, and it was strangely satisfying as we left to know that I’ll never feel the need to go back. Plus, there are so many better places in the world to be a hooligan.
Here are the final videos of our time in Europe:
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