Amended with reason:Marked as closed
ReviewO be feckin’ Jeesus, what sort of a hellish pit of human awfulness does this place represent. I was there for an hour or so on St Paddy’s Day 2006 as some of my misguided mates had chosen to meet there. The first thing that assails ones senses, once you’ve got passed the woolly hatted numpty on the door, is the noise, then you realise it is what passes for music in Emporio Yatus.
The next task is to fight your way to the bar only to be faced with Inbev fizzy p*ss that claims to be lager and the ubiquitous John Smiths Smooth or keg Boddies that plagues this part of England’s green and pleasant. In a corner a spotty irk with a pair of headphones and an 80’s record collection assaults everyone’s ears with the only respite being when he stops the row to shout a topical “Is anyone here Oirish”. This of course was met by a stunned silence, even those “twats in hats” who regularly embarrass themselves on St Paddys Day don’t really know why they are doing it.
OK they could probably sing the first line of Wild Rover but ask them what type of farm animal was favoured by Paddy McGinty and they wouldn’t have a clue. Dosed up on e-numbers from a myriad of rainbow coloured WKD’s these pseudo Paddys would happily embrace Scotland the Brave or Men of Harlech as their own, that’s if the spotty irk with headphones had even heard of these stirring anthems.
All together now,
I went to a Yates’s I should not frequent
But I only went in ’cos I needed the gents
If it’s good beer you’re after you’re well out of luck
As they stuff they serve here it may well make you chuck
And it's no, nay, never
No, nay never no more
I have been to this Yates’s
No never no more
(Reviewed in 2006, although I believe it's much the same now)
Amended to:Now an Indian restaurant
[Admin Edit: actioned 10/1/10]
