Corner Bar

Pub 125: Corner Bar

We all knew from the off that vapes were, and always would be, for wee guys. First time I ever saw one was when a guy in school, about 2012, shouted "smell this, CANDY FLOSS" and blew a hiroshima cloud in my face. And now they've only gone and blown up half of union street.

The saving grace is that central has been saved and the victorian heart of our resilient city will endure.

However, despite the grandeur and the nostalgia, we all know that central is truly and deeply a cesspit. Certainly, most of my memories there are of the junkies in the foyer and the scraps in blue lagoon over the last fish off the fryer.

Thus, when I was invited for some midweek drinks at the Corner Bar (on the corner of argyle and hope street, believe it or not), my expectations were situated somewhere between low level station and hell. Some kind of glaswegian purgatory.

But I was happy to find that this was not the case. On an immediate trip to the bogs I was greeted with the most high-brow toilet graffiti of my life. No sign of 'big mark woz here' or 'sellick are shite', just some vague reference to a Scorsese film, apparently. From what I read, I think Paul Hackett's story might have been inspired by wiktor jurek's final night at skye live.

And the rest of the pub was lovely too. Cheap and fantastic guinness all night in a lovely setting. Big recommend, but definitely better for small groups than big.

[8/10]