There's always a vague feeling of unease within. There's often a sort of anti-you activity among the bickering bar staff who find their bickering more interesting than the would-be customer. They are not Johnny Cash but they wear all black, apart from the manager who wears a white shirt and the demeanour of a disappointed non-commisioned officer in a disappointing batallion. He would like to shout at the stupid elderly half-pissed customers but knows he won't and can't. Behind a partition in the back bar a man groans continuously - imagine "The Scream" repainted as "The Lonely Groan". (This would be a good name for a Wetherspoons). A fat ugly couple dandle their baby. A baby that will come to know Wetherspoons, and groan in his turn.
