By Archan Arulkumaran
Lectures droned, their words blurring into a monotonous hum. Readings remained untouched, the pages a jumble of meaningless symbols. Your senses scream for respite. Now, only one salvation remains: a pint of Guinness, its dark promise gleaming like a beacon, a cool oasis in the dreary aftermath of a misspent school day. The thought of venturing far is exhausting, so choosing the best on-campus spot is vital. The Three Tuns, George IV, or Ye Old White Horse – which will offer the solace you crave?
If it’s company you seek, The Three Tuns calls your name. It’s a place where conversations flow as easily as the stout, and you’re bound to bump into a friend or two. One Guinness may turn into a couple of five… the night has a way of stretching out deliciously when you’re in good company. But wait, what is this? A plastic pint glass? Outrageous! How does one split the G? And yes, it may have been a two-part pour, but how will I signal my devotion to the finest of stouts and rise above the pretenders with their inferior swill? This won’t do. This absolutely won’t do.
George IV is an interesting establishment. A two-part pour and a Guinness branded glass. Brilliant! But a big sign hangs from the ceiling. ‘LONDON SCHOOL OF ECONOMICS’. For just this one evening, I seek a brief escape in this pint, a temporary respite from those relentless demands. Yet, even here, within these pub walls, academia intrudes, mocking my attempts to forget.
There is one last hope, crammed in the middle of LSE. A refuge from the intensity of student life. The calm at the eye of the storm: Ye Old White Horse. Old Guinness adverts line the walls. ‘GUINNESS FOR STRENGTH’. It is dark inside – like the Guinness they pour. Creamy. Delicious. Perfect. The domed head lures me in. At last! The haven I seek. Yes, this pint is steeper, but to that I say: you cannot put a price on solace!
Who are these old men in Ye Old White Horse? Certainly not first years. Alumni? I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care! They seem to exist in another dimension entirely, untouched by the urgency of essays and exams. Their weathered faces tell stories unknown to me, their hushed conversations hint at lives lived long and full. For now, my own story rests in the cool perfection of this pint, in the dark depths waiting to be explored.
Illustrated by Nurisabela Amira Shah, @belahamizan
