Monkstone Inn, Cardiff

Thursday evening and we intended going to the Monkstone for my wife's birthday - as we have done many times in the past. We were greeted by two bouncers on the front door who asked for ID (why do they now need bouncers? Does it kick off regularly?) After explaining that we were out for a celebratory, midweek family meal we were allowed to enter what has obviously become the local Star Wars bar.
Most of the clientele looked like they were from the semi-secure mental institution, which is the large, well lit complex on the left as you go down the drive.
The heavyweight, lemon sucking barmaid greeted us with a suspicious grunt and seemed to have a problem understanding the words "Hello, could I have a pint of smooth bitter please". Eventually, she decided that I could be trusted with a pint glass, but to be honest, we'd realised that we had made an almighty mistake and decided that a tactical retreat was the only way to survive this hovel.
If you're looking for a dodgy pub where the mostly underage customers address each other as "Braaaaa" and insist that "They knows it makes sense, innit", this is the place for you!
We won't be bothering again as any one of the four pubs just down the road in St Mellons is infinitely preferable. This formerly delightful pub and restaurant has been ruined by its new owners - they should be ashamed.