Purveyors.

My drinking establishment of choice as a young man was the Jigger in St Andrews, which was as far away as possible from where I lived. Fortunately this depressing little pub was halfway home, so was always a welcome pee stop, but we couldn't just use their loos so we'd have to have a couple of pints. A self defeating strategy I admit. The next nearest pub was the Brittania, run by two little old ladies who refused to sell you pints of beer, you got halves.