I was here either three or four times over a weekend. It was that solid a place to knock back a painkiller (err... beer) for my sore feet. The draft beers I drank weren't watered down at all. Several televisions tuned into various sports programs. Sit upstairs (if you can stand the smokers) or try to snag the table by the window to watch the people walk by.
I never managed to eat anything, but the plate of spaghetti (yes, spaghetti) served to the next table looked quite good.