On the east side of Southport’s Marine Lake lies a tiny building. It measures 16 feet by 22 feet and is named The Lakeside Inn. It is, supposedly, Britain’s Tiniest Pub.
I’m not sure whether it’s still in business as I only seem to pass it at times where pub goers generally just visit a Wetherspoons for a Hair Of The Dog with their fry-up but what is curious is that I think I already visited a different place in Manchester that also calls itself Britain’s Tiniest Pub. I can’t remember the name of the establishment, only that it was packed when we went, which wasn’t hard, and we seemed to do a lot of looking at pictures of football’s coolest player, Xabi Alonso.
It reminded me of a ski holiday in Val Thorens a few years ago. Just down the road from our chalet was a pub that called itself Europe’s Highest. The curious thing was that, just up the hill was another pub that could more rightly lay claim to the title. All I remember of that pub was that, at the time we were in it, there was water pouring through the ceiling and I wasn’t sure it was entirely safe!
The Lakeside Inn was, apparently, Guiness Certified, but what happens when you aren’t quite as good as you think you are?
This is known as the Dunning–Kruger effect. Dunning said:
If you’re incompetent, you can’t know you’re incompetent.… [T]he skills you need to produce a right answer are exactly the skills you need to recognize what a right answer is.
Or, basically, stupid people don’t know they’re stupid. The internet is awash with examples of people speaking rubbish with confidence but the most interesting side of this is the idiot can rarely be convinced that they are one or, put more politely, it’s not possible to prove someone wrong when they have an unshakeable belief that they aren’t.
Whichever pub is the smallest or the highest, I’m not going to let any scientist tell me that Xabi isn’t the coolest.
This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don’t.
You touch her skin and then you think
That she is beautiful but she don’t mean a thing to me.
Yeah, she is beautiful but she don’t mean a thing to me.
I spent two weeks in Silverlake
The California sun cascading down my face
There was a girl with light brown streaks
And she was beautiful but she didn’t mean a thing to me.
Yeah she was beautiful but she didn’t mean a thing to me.
Wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking
As we moved together in the dark
And all the friends that i was telling
And all the playful misspellings
And every bite i gave you left a mark
Tiny vessels oozed into your neck
And formed the bruises
That you said you didn’t want to fade
But they did and so did i that day
All i see are dark grey clouds
In the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you ask “was something wrong?”
That i think “you’re damn right there is but we can’t talk about it now.
No, we can’t talk about it now.”
So one last touch and then you’ll go
And we’ll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
And you are beautiful but you don’t mean a thing to me
Yeah you are beautiful but you don’t mean a thing to me
Tiny Vessels by Death Cab For Cutie