I had every drink from the East Slope tap in one day
While bored in a lecture, I was hit with the good idea I should get wasted. I texted my friend and fellow Tab writer Anthony to supervise me on a little bet I made with myself that I need to try every drink out of the pump at East Slope, going from left to right. He agreed, and so the challenge began.
Here’s what it’s like to down 10 different pints in one day, as well as a rating of each drink. You’ll thank me later, but your liver might not.
Every great journey begins with a single step
In this case, a burger. Looks like my previous big debate of pizza vs burger was answered and to prep for the catharsis I am about to perform on myself my stomach needs to have food. Double chicken burger with chips and burger sauce. Done. 10/10
Start with a classic: East Slope ale
Have you even really been to East Slope bar if you didn’t try their ale? East Slope ale is a nifty £2.75 and Luckily for me its one of my favourites out of the selection. It also just so happens to be on the far left. Perhaps symbolism of Sussex university? 8/10
The bland ale: HopHead
Also known as Hophead, the guest ale in East slope that week. As soon as I sip it, it is similar to licking the inside of a beer keg. Two pints down, feeling pretty good. Me and Anthony are having a good chat and shooting the shit. 5/10
This is where I start to think I may have fucked up. The last time I had Guinness was two years ago in my local Slug and Lettuce because I had just turned 18 and wanted to know what it was like. There is a reason why I haven’t touched it since. If the previous drink tasted like a metal beer keg, this one tasted of chewing tree bark. Never again. 2/10
The Year 7 classic: Strongbow
Ahhh, my old friend, it has been too long since I have sat in a park in the pouring rain getting dizzy off Strongbow. Drinking this brought a wave of disgust and nostalgia in equal measures of the sort of things my suburban 13-year-old self did for fun. 8/10
Here is when I start to feel a bit tipsy. When I’m drunk, I’m usually really inappropriate, extremely generous, be really loud, or all of the above. I wander off and start to play the quiz machine in the bar and sink £2 in it. As I come back, I start the conversation of what Forrest Gump having sex would be like, turns out the inappropriate version of me has come out. Anthony and Poppy look at me strange and I decide to go to the toilet.
This is where it all changes.
I never usually drink Kronenbourg, and I know why now. Doesn’t really do much in the way of blowing my taste buds but a beer is a beer. 6/10
I hate Fosters, its fucking awful. The magic hour of 8pm rolls by and the discounted ‘Skint’ night has kicked in so Fosters is £2.20. At least my wallet is appreciative. 5/10
Here, the cork has well and truly been pulled. The piss I had earlier somehow has blown the gasket and I keep going back to the toilet. Each time watching my sobriety leave my body and into the ceramic bowl below.
The hazy bit
During the night I am making notes. However this is when my notes, and original objective, start to mess up. My notes I am currently reading as I write this article make little to no sense apart from the fact that I got ‘a cider drink that begins with S and 2 mango cactus jacks’ which upon further research the cider drink is Symonds (?????/10). Which means I only have two drinks left. I think.
My friends arrive at East Slope and I buy the remaining two drinks, Strongbow Dark Fruit (8/10), and the gold at the end of the rainbow, the amazing Seacider (10/10). I feel like I should get them out of the way quickly. So I down the Seacider and enjoy this alcoholic fruit juice before continuing onto the next.
I play a couple games of drunken pool, and I forget where my drink was. At this stage, I didn’t really care and I just wanted to drink something that wasn’t a pint. I end up ordering two double vodkas and two Jagerbombs. The rest of the night is a blur and I wake up with a banging headache, with flammable breath, and dreading the radio show I have to record later that day.
There’s worse ways to spend a Tuesday night.