There’s a good way to make the last call for drinkers
I have one major gripe with pubs in London. No, it’s not how early they close—my colleagues have debated that at length. My issue is with last call.
For context, I’m Irish, and if there’s one thing we’re universally known for, it’s doing hospitality well. In Ireland, last call is a process, not a sudden event. It’s a gentle nudge, a fair warning that you’ve got time for one last drink before the bell rings and the lights flicker on.
Last call usually happens at least thirty minutes before closing. This gives you time to prepare, whether that’s ordering a final drink, gathering your friends, checking the bus times, or scouting out the next spot. You’re never caught off guard.
But in London? Last call is a figment of the imagination. One moment, you’re mid-conversation, sipping your pint, and the next—boom—the bar’s shut, the lights are on, and staff are practically pushing you out the door.
A sudden cut-off feels like a betrayal
When I first moved to London, I learned this the hard way. One night, I strolled up to the bar at what I thought was last call and ordered a pint. No warning, no heads up—just a fresh, full glass in my hand.
Four minutes later, the lights were blazing, and a bouncer was giving me the wrap it up stare. I hadn’t even taken a proper sip. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have spent that £7 on a drink I had no time to enjoy.
In Ireland, we respect the drinking experience. It’s part of the culture. Pubs thrive because they foster a sense of community. Last call isn’t just about the staff—it’s about considering the customer too.
Sure, I understand that bartenders want to get home. I’ve worked in hospitality, and I know the frustration of customers lingering long past closing time. I, too, have stacked chairs a little louder than necessary and flipped the lights on like a warning shot.
But there’s a difference between giving fair notice and abruptly shutting down. A simple, “Just so you know, we’re closing in 30—any last drinks?” would make all the difference.
Communication & respect: The cornerstones of a good pub
At its core, my frustration isn’t about pub closing times—it’s about the lack of communication.
Pubs, especially local ones, should be about relationships between staff and customers. It’s the bartenders and the regulars who make a place feel like home. That sense of familiarity is what keeps people coming back.
Yet, when London pubs abruptly shut down without so much as a courtesy call, it feels dismissive. It’s as if the unwritten message is, “Thanks for your money—now, get out.”
With so many pubs closing across London, and Gen Z drinking less, you’d think landlords would be doing everything possible to retain customers. Instead, it often feels like they’re pushing them away.
A longer, clearer last call could make all the difference. It costs nothing, it’s better for customers, and in the long run, it’s better for business too.
The simple fix: A better last call in London
In Ireland, last call is a moment. It’s a natural, well-communicated end to the night, not an abrupt switch from merriment to eviction.
London pubs could learn a lot from this approach. Instead of treating last call like a sudden death, why not make it a smooth transition?
So here’s my call for a longer last call in London—who’s with me?