Since I moved to Las Vegas a little more than four years ago, the Crown & Anchor British Pub on Tropicana Avenue consistently has been one of my favorite places to go for a beer, and is, I suspect, the closest thing in the Valley to a true English public house. When I was a full-time UNLV student, the Crown & Anchor was conveniently close to campus, and had that friendly, college bar feeling that so few drinking holes around town manage to pull off. Since then, the fun, often rowdy atmosphere has continued to foster a sort of loyal affection in me, though I haven't spent nearly as much time there as I'd like. Unlike many of the Irish pubs springing up around town, I don't think this establishment's interior was actually imported from overseas, but the soccer and rugby game schedules above the bar, dartboards and tasty pub grub (I hear the fish and chips are spectacular) make it a great place to have an authentically good time.
So I was braced for disappointment Saturday when a group of friends decided to hit the Crown & Anchor. I hadn't been to the pub in months, but I had already made plans with my old roommate, Chris. I took it as a good sign when I called Chris to see what he wanted to do and he suggested the Crown & Anchor since he also hadn't been there in awhile. When I got there, Chris and his friend (also named Chris) weren't there yet, but my friends Nellie, Emma, Mickey and my sidekick Sarah had already staked out a spot at the bar, usually quite a feat on a Saturday night. There weren't as many people in the pub as I expected, and the crowd seemed a little more subdued than usual, but there also weren't any soccer or rugby games playing on the many TVs, so I wasn't totally surprised.
I ordered a Fat Tire (on tap!) and briefly considered asking for a stamp on my Down the Hatch club card before discarding the idea. (The club has nothing to do with me; the names are coincidental. My club is called The Maria, Goddess On Earth, Fan Club.) To join their Down the Hatch club, just ask a for a card. Then you, the shiny, new club member, get one stamp for each of the pub's 30 draught beers (Crown keeps an additional 10 or so varieties of beer by the bottle, but they're not included in the Down the Hatch drinking list).
Each time you fill up a card you get a prize, like a Down the Hatch club T-shirt, not to mention the satisfaction of having sampled all 30 beers. Last summer, I joined the club with a handful of friends, including Nellie and Sarah, but for all my bar hopping, I haven't even come close to filling up a card since I always end up ordering New Castle, Guinness or pear cider. Sadly, neither Nellie nor Sarah have done much better, though just being a part of the club provides an excellent excuse to go out for drinks—if you ever happen to need one.
Eventually both Chris 1 and Chris 2 and a couple of his friends arrived. As we were catching up on new books, music and upcoming concerts (Chris 1 and I are both excited about Dropkick Murphys in March and a reading by author Chuck Palahniuk in February), I noticed a random guy walk by, straining hard to check out Nellie and Emma, who were sitting behind us. All my friends are hotties. Emma's tall and blond, while Nellie's just plain exotic-looking, so this happens with them a lot.
A few minutes later, he walked by again, his attention still fixed on Nellie and Emma, and went straight into the barstool next to me and Chris 1. His full beer spilled everywhere, he turned bright red, mumbled sorry, and took off without even waiting to see if he'd gotten beer on anyone or cleaning up the puddle. The whole thing was actually pretty funny, especially since Nellie and Emma were busy making plans for an Oscar-theme party and missed the whole thing.
Spilled beer aside, it was a good night at the Crown & Anchor. The music selection, mostly techno, was a little strange, but the crowd seemed to grow as it got later, and as usual, the vibe was casual but energetic. Occasional cheering erupted from the people playing darts or pool, and it mixed well with the bouts of laughter from others around the pub. After a couple of rounds, I was ready to go, but determined to come back more often. Maybe I'll even try a few different beers next time; I really could use one of those Down the Hatch T-shirts.
Maria Phelan sets a new bar for drinking. E-mail her your favorite watering hole at [email protected].