CHALLENGE DAVE: THE VOLUNTEER ARMS

SquareOne Booze

by Dave Hynes

So, still near the bottom(ish) of Leith Walk I volunteered to twist my arm for a pint at a new abode. The smoker’s outside seemed content enough to brave the cold and I always reckon you can tell a lot about a pub by looking at the smoker’s outside. These ones were old, cold and big Hibs men - I was later told. Better than Jambo’s I guess!

I felt more secure in a Scots accent, which I’m beginning to get good at, to order my drinks and say ‘areyt pal’ to the outside smokers; ‘hello chaps’ might have aroused suspicions of the auld enemy.

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There were a few rough looking blighters propping up the bar, especially a man with the strangest nose I’ve ever seen; sort of like a pinnochio with a terrible cold. He was jovial but completely s_t-faced and I was terrified he might sneeze at one point.

The pub itself looks okay inside, with a real delight of a bar. A huge glass panel reflects the great variety of spirits available and three huge TV’s seemed happy enough to show the horse races. The punters seemed a betting lot, with most conversation directed towards the big screens. It felt quite cosy at first but the charm wore off after all of ten minutes.

The Volunteer Arms might be a decent pub if the punters ever seemed to win anything on the races; but non-stop news about betting odds and increasingly frantic old men screaming in your ears almost drives you into the unforgiving arms of The Central.

The best thing, though, about this pub was the rather gorgeous little angel behind the bar who seemed strangely unreceptive to my charms. She is very sexy, and if you volunteer to go to this pub and she’s not there, I’m sorry, because there ain’t too much else to see.

Would I volunteer to go in again? Would a certain alcoholic philanthropy drive me towards the bosom of this s_t-hole? Would an altruistic love of Leith and its insatiable desire to sustain s_t pubs let me recommend this one to you? Noooooooo, it’s s_t, and more than that, it’s typical Leith Walk old man crap where the pub is the same as the one they’d celebrated victories at Bannockburn in.

Not a great one this I’m afraid. Still, if that barmaid had liked me . . . might let them know in the next pub I’m a cheeky reviewer, get them to water down my drink a bit less.