Contrary to popular conception, the life of a barman isn’t all fast cars, sexy girls, jetting to LA for breakfast or lunching on the OrientExpress.
Welcome to Bar Humbug.
Feel the pain as the owner's struck down in the opening scene.
Share the love, sense the humour and smell the sewers as we follow, live and loathe the dream.
The dream transports us through the embryonic stages when Humbug is a joke. The setting up phase as staff are picked, bar is built and stocked.
Experience the euphoria as the doors are flung wide and the public trickle in.
Be touched by the emotion when the owner's little bast... darlings wake him at 6am.
Bar Humbug, it has to be said, is the most miserable bar on the planet. It is forged out of the malignant hatred of customers that we all (come on, be honest) nurture. Humbug prefers a darkened, dirty room over the shining chrome and neon norm, the unwanted customer can have eardrums teased by delights ranging from Smiths to Pavement, Pixies to Eels, Simone to Franklin while enjoying some of the greatest beer known to man.
Sit back and enjoy Vince Vulgar and the Virgin Vampires, Jimmy Cinders and the Heat Seekers, Bill is Ill, and all the fine acts that strut the Humbug stage.