‘Allo Guvnah! We in Jolly Olde Pinball Towne: England Gets NUDGED
Ah yes, England -- or as the British like to call it, “tut tut cheerio, chap it’s merry olde london towne!”. Our pale cousins across the pond whose loins sorta gave birth to our own great nation. What can we at Nudge say about them that wasn’t already said better by Jackie Chan, Owen Wilson, Mike Myers, Mr. Bean and the rest of the extremely informative 90s fish-out-of-water comedies that take place there? Not much. Here’s to trying though or as they say over there, “the old college try wot wot.”
One time I bought a dirty joke book from England. In it there were aproximately 50 million dirty jokes about people from Essex. I was going to write one of those jokes here, but I think it’s in better taste to let your imagination run wild with what a filthy, filthy little place Essex must be. But, dear reader, we know why you’re here: pinball. Do they do it the same over there? Is the plunger on the lefthand side? Do they call it googledy pucks or something? Well, you’re about to find out ya bloody tosser. Harry potter. Etc.
Our own intrepid reporter, Iggy peddled his disgusting shtick along the foggy streets of London Towne in search of some good old flippin’. What do they call personalities like his over there? Lecherous. Lecherous for pinball. What a great word. Sounds like a mouth sore or something. Anywho -- it’s time to pop that safety pin thru your nose, turn up the Ramones, and get pissed bruv. We only talkin’ pinball ain’t we? (plz read that in an extremely terrible cockney accent)
The Pinball Office of Sawbridgeworth along the River Stort. (Then We make a Ricky Gervais reference )
So it’s not London proper, but there’s this pinball spot in a place called The Old Maltings in Sawbridgeworth, England. Along the River Stort, a place so British that it sounds more like a Game of Thrones castle than a place on google maps. Anyway, these guys converted a warehouse, which was evidently originally built to dry barley and did what any British person might do -- made it completely unremarkable on the outside.
There isn’t any formal entry, there isn’t even a sign. In fact, you’ll have to create a reservation before they’ll even let you in. (Is this a British thing? Like private clubs and whatnot?) But wander inside and you’ll see that within this unassuming office complex they’ve got the place PACKED TO THE FRICKEN GILLS with pins. A solid dirty thirty or so. The Pinball Office spans two suites on the third floor, if you’re English, fourth floor if you’re American, of the building — why do they count things this way? We may never know, but maybe it’s the same reason that they find blood sausage good?
This is a concessions stand, not an office breakroom at a moderately successful credit union.
This is some no-frills, British shit: just unadulterated pinball and not much else. Concessions? Don’t make me guffaw. It’s like harry potter tea and coffee, no alcohol and definitely no weed. Admission is £10 (around $15 American), which is maybe kinda steep for a free play place. On top of that, it’s only open for four hours on Saturdays, so it behooves you to get your playing in.
The nice part about free play machines is that you’re not messing around with quarters (or grublies or jublies or whatever they call ‘em) or as I experienced at London pubs with machines, £1 games, or gasp even some cashless QR code download-an-app-to-pay-with-your-card bullshit.
Now, in preparing for and writing this article I followed some of the unwritten Nudge journalistic rules: I didn’t interview one person and skimmed the website. Editor’s note: This is in no way our policy and this writer has been repeatedly made fun of for this entire article. So, bear with me while I make some wild assumptions about this pinball mecca.
It’s likely the private collection of one or two British lords. Their collecting became an obsession. They put their machines in their “Parlours” and “Solariums” and whatnot. Eventually their obsession become untenable — especially as an important world wide balloon race was just around the corner. They fired everyone in this office, replaced them with aforementioned pinball machines, and now run the entire operation out of the goodness of their heart (and maybe a tax write-off? Do lords get write-offs? After literally zero research this is Unclear)
Whoever established this: It obviously wasn’t for the money, but for the pure love of pinball. That stiff-upper-lip British love (As seen by the £10 admission and reservation-only policy). One thing: once you’re inside, no one appears to be in charge. Just a buncha English folks milling about and politely playing pinball. And let me tell you, they have all the classic bangers. The Shadow, NBA Fastbreak, AC/DC, Diner, and every new Stern that matters. You think it’s bad waiting for pins over here? Imagine how long they wait in Jolly olde England! Shit, man probably a very very long time.
What else can I say? They’re all functional, clean, and well maintained — so that already beats like 85% of onlocation pins in the states, AM I RIGHT? If you’re a Nudger and find yourself in the UK, make your reservations and pay the £10.
Take the train from London and a short walk - or as they say a slight saunter, old chapy - and you’re there! Directions are also on the Pinball Office website.
Allen House
The Maltings
Sawbridgeworth CM21 9JX, UK
Cheers Mate!
Editor’s note: I got on Iggy’s case a lot for this one being too cheery, but you know what? I can’t fault the guy. He was on vacation. Maybe he was having his Harry Potter fantasies coming to life before his very eyes, but shit everyone — let’s turn down the whimsy. Next time Nudge is in London, it’s spit, blood, punk, and that’s it. Maybe booze. But no Sid Vicious drugs! Well, no late-era Sid drugs. Ok, well see y’all later!
