Moderation, Hull

I still had a few minutes before my train, having sunk my half of Creamflow at the Masters Bar in under my previous best time in my hurry to get out of there before anyone spotted my Leeds Rhinos cap in my non-drinking hand. (We had beaten Hull FC 62-16.) I couldn't resist a bar with the name Moderation, as that's my middle name, and it was soon evident that every customer here was long past the point where they might have cared about a rugby league score. Several people kindly made room for me to get to the bar - which is more than I could say for the customers next door at the Ebenezer Morley, which was the other reason I was here - and I was able to make myself understood by shouting very loudly and pointing in the direction of the John Smiths Smooth Crap. Strangely, there's no real ale here, and the price of a half was £1.50, making this the most expensive of my three pubs on the day. There were several grandmothers dancing to loud pop music and looking enticingly in the direction of anyone of the male and heterosexual persuasion with evidence of a still beating heart. I drank my beer - it was actually quite good, almost as though someone at the factory had accidentally tipped a couple of hops in the tank - and made a discreet exit. Moderation, as I may have mentioned, is one of my middle names; another being Discretion.