It's always upper case and italicised, white on a black background, featuring the dreaded words ‘Sky Sports’ or ‘Setanta’. It’s the writing on a pub chalkboard (usually an A-frame outside the premises) and it spells trouble.

Whatever the caption, the message is that the place has no beer of note, the food is mediocre and there’s less atmosphere than in the ether surrounding the Mir Space Station.

When I pulled up in the small car park of the Seacourt Bridge Inn (the word ‘inn’ set amber warning lights flashing in my brain), my spirits started to flag, but they plummeted once I strolled inside the dark, cold and crowded interior on a Friday lunchtime.

This is what some folk refer to as a ‘lunchtime pub', so it was busy, but divided demographically — a bunch of people in suits (I guess lawyers from Blake Lapthorn’s offices down the road) at one end, pensioners by the front window, and a few 30-somethings at the bar, which would have had sported real character if Marston‘s Taverns could be bothered to spruce it up.

I didn’t book a photographer to take an interior shot because, quite frankly, there’s so little worth snapping.

WHAT DID YOU ORDER?

In the words of Dinah Washington, what a difference a day makes. If I’d ambled in between noon and 6pm on Thursday rather than Friday, I’d have been able to indulge my passion for a bargain by seizing upon the Golden Greats menu — two courses for a remarkable £3.95.

Yes, £3.95, I tell you! And with the option of a cuppa for only 50p, to boot. As it was, I asked for lamb’s liver, mash and peas (£3.95 for a small portion) — only to be told it was off.

So I picked fish and chips with mushy peas — and waited nearly half an hour for it — plus a Caribbean Sundae to follow. While I was tempted to pass the time by twiddling about on the South Park (the crass American cartoon, not the leafy pasture in East Oxford) game machine by the front door, I settled for reading my copy of the Sun.

WHAT WAS IT LIKE?

The newspaper? Oh, you mean the food... Disappointing, as I’d feared. The peas weren’t mushy (the pub had run out, so I was given the marrowfat kind instead), the batter on the fish (supposedly prepared in-house) was tough and there was no sign in the Caribbean Sundae of the wafer or toasted coconut mentioned on the menu.

The dessert was, however, lispsmackingly tasty — speckled with chocolate and raisin fragments, and reeking of rum. Looking around, I saw that most other people who were eating had chosen sandwiches or baguettes, not hot food.

WHAT DID YOU DRINK?

Having asked for a retro-style ‘floater’ (no giggling at the back there!) coffee, I abandoned the idea on learning the cream topping was merely squirty foam. So I swigged a reasonable pint of Marston’s Pedigree (this pallid beer‘s never more than reasonable at any pub).

ANYTHING ELSE? I think I’ve said enough, don‘t you?

THE BILL: Fish, chips & peas £4.75; Caribbean Sundae £2.85; Pint of beer £2.45