Pardon my indulgence but on the subject of crap pubs, I think a little song is called for..

I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT A REAL PUB

Well I went to a tavern I used to frequent
Where many's the merry old evening I'd spent
And I asked for the landlord, but the landlord's "moved on"
And the management's had some ideas of their own...

For they've stripped it all out so the story is told
To make it look rustic, authentic and old
And they've filled it with tat and antiques by the score
Now it's boathooks and bike wheels from ceiling to floor
You can still smell the varnish come fresh from the tub
Now it's I Can't Believe It's Not a Real Pub

A pint of the usual and how are you sir?
Fat chance as you wait for three hours to get served
Three hours I stood waiting, three hours I've been here
All for a pint of Olde I Can't Believe It's Not Beer
Yes the booze is a joke (best don't mention the grub)
Down the I Can't Believe It's Not a Real Pub

Once the locals would drink here at the end of the day
Musicians would gather to sing and to play
But they're no longer welcome and the reason is clear
They take up all the seats and don't drink enough beer
Now the jukebox drowns out all the chat and hubbub
Of the I Can't Believe It's Not a Real Pub

And all round Olde England the story's the same
As pubs become outlets of nationwide chains
Renamed, rebranded, replaced one by one
With some marketing person's idea of "fun"

Now it's time for last orders, ding ding goes the bell
Now we've had all your money, you can all go to hell
And if you don't like it, well ain't that a shame
'Cos the pubs down in hell are exactly the same
And if it makes you feel angry, well join the club
Singing I Can't Believe It's Not a Real Pub