Above the Oxfam, sharing with Woolworths in years gone by, domination of the junction of the end of an unpedestrianised High Street with St James Street and Blackhorse Road, is the Embassy Snooker Club.
This venerable social institution, midway between the Cock and the Bengal Curry House on St James Street formed one point of the triangle of fun for adolescent males seeking the transition from truancy to adulthood in days gone by. Its advertised attractions, of four snooker table, (low datetime rates), four pool tables, seven dartboards, two jackpot machines and a TV Lounge can be accessed by phoning 520 2414. I am not sure when anyone last went out of an evening to a TV Lounge or indeed, how many decades out of date this information may now be. The Club does indicate from the advertisement that mars its interesting columns with heraldic devices (Arms of the House of Burton possibly), that it is fully licensed and is open from 10.30am TILL LATE.
For a club which has been in existence for so many years, the Embassy Snooker Club does manage to exude a strange air of impermanence. This is conveyed through the black plastic attached to its windows, curling slowly away from inside of the glass. Its entrance on the High Street tries to suggest security and privacy. The window above this doorway is however the one without the darkened plastic. It allows those who ever look up a sight of four or five cues leaning into its corner. Those who look down can see who is coming along Pretoria Avenue, going in and out of the Co-Op Pharmacy or waiting for nothing in particular on the seats outside the Turkish shop.