It wasn’t long ago that ten pounds would get you a round of three or four drinks. Now, ten pounds gets you a single pint and perhaps a sad, soggy napkin. Inflation, rent, and the sheer cost of existing in London have conspired against us.
I asked a bartender in Soho about the price. He shrugged and said, “It’s the new normal.” He then pointed to a sign for a pint of craft IPA that cost £10.50. I think I saw a grown man cry into his foam.
To be fair, some of these bars are quite fancy. They have velvet ropes, exposed brick, and bartenders with names like “Sage.” You’re not just paying for the beer; you’re paying for the vibe. And apparently, the vibe costs a fiver.
The Science of the £10 Pint
Let’s do the math together, because I love math that makes me sad. If you go out for three pints with friends, that’s £30. That’s the price of a nice dinner. Or a train ticket to the countryside. Or a small, mildly offended hamster.
At £10 a pop, a night out becomes a financial planning event. You have to budget. “Do I want one beer, or do I want a Netflix subscription for the month?” The answer is usually yes to both, which is why Londoners are now made of pure regret and hop sediment.
I saw a man pay for a round with a credit card that looked dusty. He was clearly using it for emergencies, like a car breakdown or a thirst for lager. The card machine beeped, and he whispered, “Charge it.” We all understood.
