So, St. John's still has neighbourhoods pubs. They're usually as far removed from George Street as they are from any recent renovations, and tend to be busier in the early afternoon than late at night. Some of them are beloved by hipsters, but most simply have a strong following of regulars from the neighbourhood. They basically serve the same community role as a church, really - but with (more) booze.
Although we've peeked inside before, none of our group of friends in the Rabbittown neighbourhood has ever been inside our local. Last night, Ayreonaut pushed to go downtown but it was too cold for the rest of us, so he suggested - hey, let's head down to the Easton, it's only half a block away.
I was genuinely apprehensive. It, like the neighbourhood as a whole, has an awful reputation outside of its core following. And this happened there just the other day:
But, we figured - fuck it, we're Rabbittownies, we might as well give it a shot. So come along and join us.
The pub is named after this fine fellow, via Wikipedia:
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Peter Easton (c. 1570 – 1620 or after) was a pirate in the early 17th century who operated along the Newfoundland coastline between Harbour Grace and Ferryland from 1611 to 1614. Perhaps one of the most successful of all pirates he controlled such seapower that no sovereign or state could afford to ignore him and he was never overtaken or captured by any fleet commissioned to hunt him down.[1] However, he is not as well known as some of the pirates from the late 17th and early 18th centuries.
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We left our street in the freezing cold and walked the half block to the Easton.
While we walked, we were cracking jokes about what our evening would be like. Ayreonaut imagined the only beer they'd offer would be Blue Star and I was sure we were going to be beaten up for some innocent offense.
When we got there, they had a lovely selection on tap and some quality booze. And...
My uncle was there, loaded. And his girlfriend was playing the VLTs.
It was surprisingly busy, and the bartender described it as shockingly dead for a Saturday night because of the cold. There had to be about 20 people crammed in there from the surrounding streets, with lots coming in for just a pint or two and leaving, to be replaced by others.
I popped out for a... breath of fresh air
... and took a shot of the houses across the street:
Love the interior French door as the main entranceway.
And poor missus in the yellow house on the right, trying her best but the neighbourhood letting her down.
And the pub's parking lot:
And a view back up toward the superette and where we live.
In typical St. John's fashion, I think everyone in the bar struck up a conversation with us as one point or another. We got invited for a surprise birthday party coming up for a woman from Nain, Labrador. We sipped a cognac recommended by an Englishman. ("I'm from Blackpool but I've been here 30 years now, b'y. I'm from here."). And we had a debate about whether or not Chicago has THE most urban river in the world.
There's a back area that's used for live music and karaoke every week. Ayreonaut tested every single chesterfield to pick which one was most comfortable. "We'll get everyone next time and come early and make sure we get this couch. It'll be awesome!"
The karaoke is hosted by a celebrity Rabbittownie.
That's VERY important, apparently. The bartender explained the customers tried to give him shit when he first started because he wasn't from the neighbourhood. But he put an end to that sternly, and now they loves him.
Around midnight, we headed back into the main part of the pub and just had a blast chatting with everyone.
All in all, highly recommend the place. One of the most relaxed, enjoyable locals I've ever been inside.
And it was SO CHEAP. Even at prime time prices, with no specials, it was only $5.50 for a pint of Guinness and $4.50 for a pint of Kilkenny.
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