The Clock

Some might say you can’t beat the Clock but I’m against the Clock. I’d rather run out the Clock. I might even punch the Clock. There we go. That’s four of your five puns a day, right there.
Standing less than 100ft from the Picton clock tower is this threadbare pub for locals. Since I shuffled in at about 10pm on a Wednesday evening, it’d be stupid if I criticised it for being empty… but it was.
Finding two new customers approaching, the barmaid asked if we wanted to do the quiz. We declined, unaware that she technically wasn’t asking, she was telling. A few minutes later we were sat, baffled and with pen in hand, as each question was followed by a witty riposte from each regular in turn. My favourite was «Eee lad! Don’t have a go at Neil Armstrong! He’s my ancestor!» to which the quizmaster said «But he’s still alive!»
The Clock isn’t the worst place ever. The drinks are unnaturally cheap, we were plied with free pub snacks and the customers are all boisterously affable, it’s just that I’d rather spend a night stapling my tonsils to Concorde than go back.

A little pub on Wavertree High Street which is bustling of a night at the weekend but a very different market to that of Allerton Road. The Clock always seems to have great promotional offers on it’s drinks.
It’s a family friendly pub but it wouldn’t be the first place I would go if I had kids. I’d say it’s more for the sort of person who fancies a pint after a hard days work — but there’s nothing wrong with that.
Not a bad pub, but not the «coolest» place to hang out.