The Old Hairdresser's

Pub 87: The Old Hairdresser's

An ode to lost friends. Lisa and wiktor are not dead, but they are moving to Spain and it honestly feels much the same. The loss of patter in Glasgow will be immeasurable, but ultimately our loss is zaragoza's gain. And surely there is no better excuse than to go out on the piss for one final hurrah.

Secondly: What a sick place this would be to get a trim. If posho watering holes ever go out of fashion (unlikely, but we can dream), and the place puts up the for sale signage, a new barbershop would be lovely. Could call it 'the new hairdressers' idk.

Also, can't not mention the absolute trek it is to find the bogs in here. The lads that design wetherspoons probably kneel down and worship this place - it's like the mecca of labrynthian lavatories. You're crouching under lintels, falling down 3 flights of stairs, making deals with the devil, and finding long-lost friends before you finally get there. Nightmare.

[7/10]

(Photos 2024, 2025)