Woody’s

Ergh. What a hole. I nipped in here to check the score of the match as there were intermittent gasps and aahs drifting out onto the street through the huge open out windows. I entered through a fog of smoke as a guy had already lit up as he stumbled out of the door and down onto the street.
Now it was full, but I would not be comfortable sitting in here, the majority of the punters were male and over 40. And the karaōke. God, the Karaōke. Cats aren’t just being strangled in there, they are being mutilated.
What sums up this place for me, are the beer offers. It’s not that cheap anymore, however a pint of mild is £1.30.

The appeal of Woody’s used to be fantastically simple, it was cheap. It was dirt cheap. It made dirt look like scrapings of platinum. But then it kind of stumbled over its own baffling popularity by jacking up prices and soon it had found itself falling from the acme of bargain to become the irredeemable hellhole it is now.
This is a bar that seems to be experimenting to see how blaring and tuneless karaōke can be before the government complain. There’s blood on the sinks and everyone is primed for a fight. In winter when the heating’s turned up full, the customers pump out pints of sweat which bind into a cloying fog that must be chewed through to gain access to the bar.
Queue up everyone. It’s just that glamorous.

Another bar which most people term ‘a dive’, Woody’s is similar in style to Cooper’s and the like, only bigger and slightly more classy in a very chavvy way. For example, on Mother’s Day it was full of MDCs (Mother/​Daughter Combos) who looked like they were dressed for the races. To go to that much effort just to sit in a dirty old karaōke bar eludes me.
Anyway. The staff are nice, one of the doormen (who I haven’t seen for a while…) frequently got up to sing, and the karaōke guy himself is an Elvis wannabe, although the last time I was there he didn’t have his leopard skin suit on. The only problem with htis place as a karaōke bar, as with most old-​fashioned karaōke bars, is that favouritism is rife. If you’re a regular you can expect to be singing all night, whereas if you’ve just put your name down because you’ve finally worked up the nerve after all these years, you are more than likely going to be discarded.
We found this out when a group of us organised a karaōke night out and ended up in Woody’s. Admittedly, there was a large group of us, but we all wanted to sing and it really wasn’t that busy. However, after we had waited an hour and the bloke who’d come in 5 minutes earlier was starting his third song, some of us got a bit miffed. So don’t expect to be first up to sing, even if you’re first up to volunteer!

This place is for all people– great ale, wonderful staff, atmosphere and characters galore.
It’s certainly no palace and you wont need to over dress but join in and mix– its like being back at Uni only the beer is cheaper.
So if you’re not a snob and like a laugh give Woodys a whirl.