So my 6th show, the day that I wrote the last entry in here, was fucking HORRENDOUS!! Oh my god, one of the worst shows I've ever fucking done, and to be fair it was all my fault for letting six drunken British Lads into my show. Last night was better, and I feel like I'm back on the horse now which is nice – I've been using that phrase a lot too, “back on the horse”, it's a weird one, but everyone seems to know what I'm talking about, so it's been slipping by un-commented-on.
GBK Edinburgh
Every time I write that bold “GBK Edinburgh” again in these reviews, I imagine a heavy booming sort of sound effect, like the start of an episode of Law and Order, reminiscent of a cell door slamming shut. “Here we are again, no escape.” In 2015 when Phil and I went to Roskilde, I remember lying awake as the Danish summer sun bore down at 6am, drifting in and out of fitful, mareish sleep and somewhere hearing a voice playing over someone's speakers:
“Day 1: Welcome to Festival, it begins.
Day 2: Ready yourself.
Day 3: Grab your weapons and prepare to fight.
…
Day 5: No Escape. No Way Out.”
I had no idea what the voice had come from, but it knew exactly how I felt. Roskilde is an eight-day festival, and I felt like that on the morning of Day 6. Edinburgh is 25 days, and today is Day 8. Decor: 3
My plan if someone from this place asks me why/how I have so many free lunch cards is to tell them that my friend runs a big Instagram account and GBK HQ asked her to take a bunch of pictures of food for them and paid her in coupons. It's a lie, but I do have a friend who runs an Insta account called @thetravellingcars who has exactly those kinds of offers from places all the time, when we caught up in London last year we got £100 of free stuff from Leon for exactly that reason. Staff: 3
I feel a little full at the moment. Food: 3
Is that pressure in my bowels from food escaping, or is it just a bit of nerves about flyering this afternoon and questioning whether people will come to my show tonight? My eyes feel tired, I'm sure there are bags underneath them. The toilets will be a good place to check. I'd write this after I go, but my laptop has 10% battery, and I don't want to push my luck. Toilets: 3
Surely my next visit here will be the one when I finally get questioned about the cards, we're on three since last Friday now, and it's currently Thursday. I'll probably come again tomorrow, just to really see how things are going to pan out. I'm still having fun, lots of it. Sriracha Mayo was also still £1.25. Fucking Scotland. Final Score: 3
I've had five shows now, they've all been good and the three days of the long weekend were full houses which was fucking fantastic. Yesterday's show was tougher, people were tired I think, but I made good money on the bucket and sold some books... I'm waiting for the wall to hit, I'm trying to be careful with myself to some extent, but I did go out last night and ended the night making love in a hostel shower (that's right LOVE) until just before sunrise, before being kicked out of the bunk bed at check out time to wander blearily back to my own place to explain myself. I don't have a private room where I'm staying you see, so the cubicle had to suffice. Is it tasteless to write about that right now? I don't know, I had a really lovely time with that person yesterday, and although they've left the city my good spirits remain. I fucking love this festival.
GBK Edinburgh
I'm sitting at one of the round tables near the window now, still inside because while it is sunny, the outside spots were all taken – no doubt BECAUSE it is sunny, oh such sharp insight!
My laptop's keyboard is really pissing me off with ever-changing dead spots and stubborn keys, and due too the fact that I'm reviewing this GBK for the second time and don't have a lot of new material to work with, that's going to affect the score. Decor/Vibes: 3.5
I was served by a different person to Friday which was a relief because I didn't want to get recognised on my first return visit, but the girl from Friday is here, so I guess she works a lot. I'm going to have to face her at some point. They seem to be taking their jobs semi-seriously as well, which is worrying for my goal of getting free lunch every visit with my stack of vouchers. Still, nice enough, she didn't come to my table a million times with the same question which was refreshing, and it's her birthday on the weekend, so good for her. Staff: 4
The grilled chicken burger was good, but a bit burnt on the top which made it tough to chew in certain places – the burnt part actually tricked me for a second into thinking there was a bit of bacon in there, but there absolutely was not, it was just a hard little chicken thingo. Also FUCK the Sririacha Mayo cost me fucking MONEY this time, which was bullshit. Actually yeah, fuck that, £1.25 what the fuck, for a little tub of mayo. Nah, not happy. Food: 2
I don't need to go to the toilet now which is a first, but I'm still pissed about the mayo, what the fuck man. £1.25 SERIOUSLY?! Nope. Nope nope nope not at all. Toilets: 2
The day is going well, I feel a little tired in the eyes, but I'm about to go and watch Pete Johansson and then catch up with the Big Boy himself Darren Harriott for a beer before we both do Laugh Train Home at 8:45. I'm hoping the show last night was a blip, the audience numbers were still good and to be honest I was very proud of the way I performed and pushed through it, but it did expose places in the show where I need a couple of stronger jokes to sure up audience confidence going into the final stretch. I don't want to be doing that shit where you dip out of the story to slip in some gear from club sets, that's lazy and it's not how you make a good show. The jokes need to be about the story, and the story is about living with a conman – as much as I might want to tell the carrot in my butt story, it's just not relevant. Final Score: 4
Yesterday I started my show in the Edinburgh Fringe and it went pretty well, the show itself is very rusty and needs a lot of work, but it's the first show innit, and despite that I performed well, and had the room almost full, so RESULT! It's 2:16pm right now and I've just come in to the only GBK location in Edinburgh, and so far, what me see, me likey!
GBK Edinburgh
The ceilings are high, and they remind me of the house I grew up in in Adelaide, not because of the height, but because of the white plaster detail around the edges and in the middle, it's very beautiful, and adds a touch of a home long gone to this place that I'll hopefully be scoring 13 free lunches off of in the next month. It feels spacious, and also is busier than I've seen any of the GBKs I've been to except maybe Clink St in London, I'm guessing that's owing to it being August in Edinburgh, and the store being in a fairly central location in New Town. Regardless, I like being in the midst of people. I'm feeling good about this guys, very good. Decor/Vibes: 5
The guy who greeted me when I walked in was smiley, and incredibly, assumed that I knew how GBK works and was comfortable sitting down and going through the menu myself! Yes!! The confidence! MY MAN!! Then when I went up to the counter and tried to order a Cheeseburger with American Cheese and Medium Patty, the English girl behind the counter explained to me that having beef cooked medium is against health regulations in Scotland because of the mad cow disease outbreak in the 90s which was apparently worse here than anywhere else in the UK. What a fucking great piece of trivia! I said “Good Lookin'” to her, and she understood what I meant, and said “Thankyou.” These are my people. Staff: 5
The food hasn't come out yet. Tick tock tick tock. I'm just impatient because I want to go see my mate James Bennison's show at 2:30... I feel like I'm not going to make it, but I'm going to try I'M COMING JIMMY!! Still though, I'm enjoying my sit here, I'm sure the food is going to be great. I trust these guys. More than that, I think I may even love them. Food: 5
Look, the toilets were no good. I mean they're fine, they're clean and everything, but the floor is made of that shitty blue sandpaper crap that I hated so much at some of the shops in London. This is probably the only part of this review that is in any way objective. Toilets: 3
I've been sitting here for a while now, and definitely missed James' show – there was no way I was going to make it to the Newsroom from here by 2:30, what a laugh hahaha. I'm going to find something nice to see now though, maybe something in Heroes of the Fringe. Bob Slayer is a fucking legend. I thought I just heard someone call out “Taco” from the other side of the restaurant, maybe someone was just saying the word “taco”? Hard to tell.
I wonder how I'll do cashing in my next free lunch voucher, I might try and run it tomorrow. These guys seem cool, hopefully I can get to know them a little. Final Score: 5
Today is my last full day in London before heading to Edinburgh tomorrow and I've spent it walking around Clapham reading Palo Alto by James Franco. I'm surprised, and I guess a little disappointed by how much I like Clapham, the wide streets and abundance of bars and greenery is so gorgeous. I'd like to think that the streak of gritty, street-rat sensibility that I hope runs through me would prevent me from liking a place like this, but the ugly truth is that I love it. I'm painfully middle-class in all but my faltering manners and questionable hygiene, that's why I've decided to write a blog about a place called Gourmet Burger Kitchen for fuck's sake. What's the use in hiding it?
GBK Clapham
It's 3:35pm and I've just finished my burger, the restaurant has just started to get a little busier. The guys at the table to my left look like the latino gangsters you see on the streets in Grand Theft Auto games, which is confusing. One of them is wearing a REAL nice jacket, it's like a suit at the shoulders, but the bottom is elastic like an Adidas jacket and a single black stripe is running horizontally along it. The rest of the thing is a sort of light-greyish off-white. God damn!
I ran my fingers along the wooden wall when I walked in the door and the imperfections in the wood grain were very endearing. Someone just read out a hotmail address, who the fuck uses hotmail anymore? Brutal. Decor/Vibe: 4
The guy serving me is clearly uncomfortable with what he knows are the necessities of his job, could see the fury behind his eyes as he asked me for the third time whether there was anything else he could get me. He knows I'm not having anything else, I'm here on a voucher for fuck's sake, but somewhere in a ringed binder under the counter it says, “At Gourmet Burger Kitchen we value each and ever customer equally. We believe it is important to attend to each of the seven points of service when dealing with every customer to ensure they have the most enjoyable experience possible when dining with us:
Greeting upon entry
Explaining the menu
Taking their order (don't forget to smile!)
Bringing water to the table
Serving meal (make sure to be excited for them! Offer condiments etc.)
Return to table to inquire whether food is good
Clear table, ask again if there's anything else they'd like, farewell and thank on departure
I feel bad for that dude, I think someone needs to get him out of here soon, because as nice as he was to me, I'm pretty certain he's about to kill someone. Staff: 3
The food is always the same, I wish I could order off the main menu, but I've not even allowed myself to look at it (hahaha that's actually hilarious god I'm so pathetic). I've just counted and I have 13 cards left. If I go every day this week, that means I have 9 for the remaining 15 days of the Edinburgh Fringe after this week. Three trips to GBK a week, that should be few enough that they don't recognize me, right? Food: 3.5
It's crazy that I always need to go to the toilet when I'm here. I think I have a real small bladder. I know I've touched on this topic before so I won't go over it again, but it really is crazy to me how some people can go for a whole day and go to the toilet like one single time. What are you a fucking monk? HOW!? The stoicism...
The stall was really dark and I couldn't find the light, which was a bummer, on the plus side though, the widow was open and you could walk out onto the roof. If you wanted you could go in there with your coat, walk out, and jump down onto the street to escape without paying for your food. Pretty sweet! Toilets: 3
Overall this place is exactly like all the others, there's even the same side tables as yesterday, sleek and efficient, but maybe not too useful. From what I can tell there are two levels of GBK, good ones, and less good ones. This is one of the good ones. Clink St and St Pauls were less good, but they all fall in about the same range: the food is consistent, the staff are fairly consistent, there's a recognisable theme in design and layout. These guys are doing okay. Oh there's no plug sockets for me to charge my phone and laptop at this one though. Final Score: 3
What a fucking stupid idea it was to go to two GBKs a day for three days straight last week. God damn it. The fucking arrogance, I feel a little bit sick from it still, not physically – although I'm sure my body is suffering on some level that I'm not in tune with – but on a personal level. Why did I do that to myself? Bored I guess.
I'm not in a good mood today, or just right now I guess, but that kind of thing happens occasionally, all I can do is write through it.
GBK Battersea
Today I'm at what is apparently the original GBK store. I can't remember who gave me that little piece of information, but whoever it was I held onto it and without any need for verification will now proliferate it as gospel to anyone who cares to listen. It feels like the original too, it's smaller, very homely, but the space is used with extreme efficiency. The sleek tables hugging the right wall are a great example of an ingenious use of space that maybe in practice wouldn't be too comfortable, you can't accuse these guys being wasteful. There are five nice-as-shit mirrors on that same wall, and while small, the space still feels airy and open. We're back on that jazz/funk tip for the music. It's sunny again, the outdoor area looks nice, everything checks out. Decor/Vibes: 4
The girl who served me was cool, she was eating lunch when I walked in and her boss didn't seem to care too much that I was standing at the counter – he was with some other dude rummaging around in what I can only assume was a cupboard. The girl stood up and left her lunch to run around the counter and serve me like a fucking champion, and when I apologised for interrupting her he brushed it off like it was nothing. SOLDIER! Staff: 4.5
I got the cheeseburger, I'm still yet to taste a difference in any of the three cheeses I've tried. I haven't tried blue because I don't really fancy something that heavy on my burger in the middle of the afternoon, but yeah. Maybe some people can taste it, but I can't. Skinny chips were good, Brenda's advice to steer clear of them turned out to be WRONG! Dickhead. Food: 3.5
There was only one toilet, marked “LOOS” with the familiar, oversized scrabble pieces, as per usual. Lighting was a bit low, by choice it seems, not too low though. If only I had someone to dance with, I feel like we could do our dancing in there. Sigh. Toilets: 4
This place is nice. If GBK really did start here and I am on hallowed ground, then I feel honoured. I'm coming to like this chain of burger joints, they are many and increasingly faceless yes, but they do still take pride in themselves. One more in London tomorrow, and then it's up to Edinburgh. Final Score: 4
Today I'm off to Norwich for a show in the evening at Gonzo's Tea House, I've been excited about today since I thought of this stupid timewasting blog idea, because I looked it up and found that there is in fact a GBK in Norwich, and so having planned my Megabus journey accordingly, I'm planning to have breakfast in the Waterloo location, and late lunch in Norwich. My bus gets in at 4pm, which gives me an hour to allow for any lateness/misadventures – I'm pretty confident I'm going to make it. I love these little threading-the-needle type adventures, where time is scarce and the pressure is on. It doesn't matter whatsoever to anyone if I succeed or fail, but the rush pushes those kinds of dull thoughts to the side and gives meaning to an otherwise pointless day. Damn it I forgot to brush my teeth.
GBK Waterloo
The shop looks long and thing when you walk through the front door, but there was a little surprise waiting for me just past the counter which stretches along the left edge of the space; at the end the room opens up again to reveal a little secret or “hidden” area. The couches are upholstered in a sort of faux-plush style, it's almost palatial, except it's not because it's fake duh. The just started playing hip hop. This is easily the best I've felt sitting in any GBK since the Haverstock Hill spot on Tuesday. Fuck yes people, today is Friday. Decor/Vibes: 4.5
Hidden!
The chick who served me, whose name is apparently Siobhan (although who trusts the names on the receipts REALLY, she could be using anyone's log in there and masquerading as a completely different person entirely. Trust nobody.), was lively and looked into my eyes. I asked for my burger to take away today, but still took the coleslaw side to have in, and she didn't flinch. She even laughed when I said something about not wanting to “fuck with the coleslaw to take away cos it's all messy and shit”. She laughed kind of early though, which gave me the impression that she was just laughing to the rhythm of our conversation, like she knew intuitively that whatever I was about to say next would be some kind of dumb joke to fill space while she entered things into her computer. Regardless, I like her. Staff: 4.5
The coleslaw is salty as fuck. Crazy salty. I'm not into it, I don't think I'll finish it actually. Yeah, bummer. I wonder how the veggie burger is going to be? I'm not going to put it in the score for this place because unless it's amazing it's not going to make up for this garbage coleslaw, soz guys. Maybe if the burger sucks as well I'll take points off the score for the GBK in Norwich? That'd be funny hey. Hahahahaha. Fuck this stupid blog. Food: 2
I realised what the problem was, there were no POMMEGRANATE SEEDS. What the fuck.
The toilet's were okay, there was toilet paper on the floor but it wasn't wet like yetserday's and anyway I like this place so fuck it. Toilets: 5
I'm super excited to go to Norwich, but I need to bounce right now to catch the bus. I can still feel the salt from that coleslaw in my mouth, and feel the dryness on my lips. That's bummed me out a little, but that chick was so cool, and this secret room is so secret. Final Score: 4
GBK Norwich
Made it! The bus took 45 minutes longer than expected and led us through traffic jams and a lot of adolescent canoodling from the seat in front of me, but we pulled into Norwich Bus Station at 1645, and after a brisk run through the town, I burst Kramer-like through the door with eight minutes to spare. Some have been sceptical of my dietary choices over these last few days, claiming the negative effects of all this grease and salt on my heart as a reason to change things up a little. I assure you though, when I was finally sure that I'd made it here in time and was going to get my free food, my heart was not just fine, it was SINGING!
The chairs in here are big! They're wooden, and I don't mean bit as in like armchairs, they're just very wide, they're normal dinner-table chairs like you'd find in any restaurant, but the seat part where your butt goes is EXPANSIVE! Like a canoe. I just looked around and realised not all of the chairs are like this – minus points for lack of uniformity.
The upstairs here is way bigger than the downstairs; there's no one sitting up there right now, it felt like maybe it's reserved for private functions or some such. I could see the tree tops and foliage from out of the full length windows and it was all very airy and light. A beautiful space. I don't know what's making me hold back on these scores, because really I don't see how a place like this could get much nicer for what it is. There's not a lot of atmosphere, but then again at the times I've been coming, why would there be? Just to break the mould I'll go Decor/Vibe: 4.5
The guy who served me was very helpful in explaining the voucher, which is what I usually let them do just to calm my own nerves about this deception, it's a funny little dance. He also offered me a choice of dipping sauce for my chips which I've never been offered before, but it was free and hey! So I went with Sriracha Aoli (duh), and am retrospectively furious with every staff member I've had up until this point for not making the same offer.
I noticed the girl on the floor did interrupt the conversation at the table behind me to ask if everything was okay, but she did also apologise for interrupting, so maybe that's something they're required to do? It was an elegant interruption though, and she was similarly gracious with me, calling me “sir”, asking if I needed anything else. I noticed at the Clink St store that they had a peg they took off my little cutlery bucket to mark when they'd hit that point of service, and that struck me as a little tacky, although not unsubtle and I will concede, a decent system. Still though, there's none of that here, I feel quite well treated and comfortable. Go Norwich! Staff 4.5
Burger was good, size of fillet was good, bun charred nicely, Sriracha Aioli was okay, a bit lacking in that garlicy aioli flavour actually, a bit more like a creamy capsicum affair, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Can't lose sight of the fact that I'm only ordering off the lunch menu, and as such the stuff I'm eating is very Entry Level. Food: 3.5
The Cabinet of Dr Caligari
I'm very aware that the toilet section has often departed from a report on cleanliness to muse on the architecture and layout of the bathrooms, but what can I say, I'm a cultured fella! The floors had a very interesting pattern reminiscent of something you might see in a tile, but made out of some plastic floor-specific composite. It reminded me of something you might look at while on acid and wonder whether it was actually moving before snapping out of the trance to check if you were wearing a suit. “Where am I?”, the Acid Brain asks.
“You're in a toilet.”
“But which one? How long have I been here? Is there anyone waiting outside for me?”
Upon leaving the stall the steps back down to the ground level dining area would present an almost insurmountable obstacle, but the design suggests this is not the kind of establishment where that kind of thing is a problem, as there is no grate or drain to allow the ensuing bodily fluid to drip through. Toilets: 4
Today has been a good day. I've got a gig tonight and I have a good feeling about it. Tomorrow I'm not going to eat GBK, and I'm very excited about the prospect. That's not to say that the eight visits this week haven't each been a separate and individual delight, they have, but I'm very tired, and I can feel my heart telling me to stop. GBK Norwich: 4.5
Getting up today knowing that I'm going to have a to squeeze another two GBK visits in before 5pm was not the most exciting prospect to look forward to. I feel a little heavy after yesterday, and tomorrow will probably be worse. I didn't even drink last night. Eugh. I don't know why I'm being negative though, I'm in a great mood, and I'm starting the day in the old town part of Greenwich which is all kinds of lovely. I just realised I think I use that word too much.
I also just want to put here for the record that I DID realise after writing the first part of this blog that there are WAY MORE than nine GBK locations in London. There are SO MANY of these little cunts (too strong?). Nine was just as many as showed up on Google Maps on my phone when I first searched, but evidently their groaning influence has spread much further than I first anticipated.
GBK Greenwich
The space here is a lot tighter than the others I've been to, and I rate it so much higher for it. Instead of these gasping spaces filled with tables just for the sake of it, the Greenwich store is compact, with tables pressed against built-in couches on the walls and chairs opposing them. The staircase juts up to the right and the bannister is a prominent feature as soon as you walk in. It's blue, like a matte version of those 'metalic' pens that rich kids used to have in their pencilcases in primary school. Remember? And you'd borrow one to draw the edge of a sword or something, and then not give it back for like two weeks. Remember those? That's what this staircase looks like.
The upstairs itself looks nice... LOOKS nice... okay before I get to that. Decor/Vibe: 4
Looks nice. Yep. Looks LOVELY
When I walked in I was quite clearly the first customer of the day. The girl behind the counter greeted me and then we fumbled around a bit trying to get bearings on each other and figure out how this was going to go, after a while I mentioned I might take a look around upstairs because it looked nice, and she asked me (with a mild plea) if I could not, because she was the only staff member on. I obliged, but fuck me if I wasn't PISSED about it. I WANNA SIT UPSTAIRS! NO!! There were two more people on the floor before my food even came out, it would have been totally fine. She just didn't want to do the leg-work.
I'm being overly harsh of course, I get it, and for the rest of the time she was fine. A bit uncomfortable in her pandering over-niceness – “cloying” was the other word I wanted to use there, but couldn't make fit. Nah, not into it. Staff: 2.5
The food was how the food always is (oh my god what a dismissive sentence, I think I might be starting to convince myself I actually had a bad time today? No. No not quite, surely). I got the grilled chicken burger again, and it was fresh and nice, the bun got a bit wet on one side, but I don't know if that's my fault or theirs. The blue cheese 'slaw was great, not an every day thing, but definitely if you're in the mood for it, go get yourself some. The water was chilled to a pleasing level. Food: 4
The toilets. Oh the toilets. Hahahaha... I mean look, I really thought this category would just be a space for me to vent from now on, because I expected the toilets to be almost exactly the same across every store, and so far they've been great. They were great here too... but just less great, and that has so defied my expectations that I'm almost enjoying how upset I am. IT WAS THE FLOOR!! Oh man the floor on these toilets, fuck off. I wouldn't use that linoleum to wrap a dead body up. I wouldn't use it to sand my neighbour's fence. I wouldn't use it to rub boils of the bottoms of your mum's feet before I fucked her THE FLOORS WERE THAT BAD! Take a look at the pictures. Then I found a random corner of some packet of sweets on the cistern and this outburst pretty much wrote itself. Toilets: 2
No.
NO!
NOOOO!!
As much as I really love the quaint layout of this shop, and as much as the girl who served me really wasn't bad at all she was actually lovely, and the food was good, and the toilets were good also, something just seems off about this place. Maybe it's the oxygen? Final Score: 3.2
GBK East Dulwich
It started raining about five minutes after I left Robyn's house in Honor Oak where I've been crashing on a memory foam mattress in her lounge/kitchen for the last week. The last time I came to East Dulwich was over a year ago, I was on a charity shop mission to buy some second hand clothes on a tip off from a rich friend with good style. This time I came to get FED!
I missed the bus stop because I was reading an Guardian Football article, and while I'm not against missing stops, it did mean I had an extra few minutes walking through the rain, and my 5pm voucher-deadline was fast approaching. I missed the entrance to the restaurant on my first pass, and found myself staring at the door to someone's flat. That was annoying, but everything else about this GBK is nice. The shop is long and thin, the floor plan is clever with single tables against the wall and doubles in the middle, meaning that those dreaded free-standing tables are taken up by groups rather than stranded individuals. Right now the music is some type of blues – I'm becoming fairly convinced that they do have a standard playlist across all GBK venues because of the lack of variation I've heard in the last few days. It's good music though. Also on a sunny day the outdoor area with nice big wooden planters looks a treat. Decor/Vibes: 4
The girl who served me (no receipt! How will I ever know her name?!) got straight to the point when I showed her my card at 4:45, and we got the business of ordering done before I'd even sat down. I'm getting more confident with ordering what I know I'm going to get anyway without having to look at the menu and feign interest to keep up the charade of never having used a free meal voucher before. That's going to have to be the move in Edinburgh, so this is all training.
The guy who brought my food out later came by for a, “everything okay?” pass, and called me, “young man,” in the process. He can't be more than five years my senior, not sure how I feel about that. It did feel nice to be called young man though, it's still dignified, but maybe just feels incorrect in my heart. I've been noticing that recently: this year, 26, it's felt markedly different to the rest of my 20s. I feel very at at peace with myself and my identity, and less like I need to impress people or dig for approval all the time, but then again I am also conscious of the distance between me and someone who is say 20. That's a lot of living. I know they can't feel it, but I can, and it makes me feel like they're somehow judging me. I guess I just contradicted myself there, that wasn't really the most comfortable, self-assured admission... anyway. Staff: 4
The burger was better than this morning's. I'll say it right fucking now I don't care who's listening. I put hot sauce on it, which I forgot to do in Greenwich, but it also just FELT more... more right, you know? It MEANT more. I've been doing things all day, so it felt like I really deserved this burger. I know that's not the fault of the chef in either venue, but I can't help but mark accordingly. Anything less would be dishonest. Food: 4.5
Once a doctor told me, after I'd inquired as to why I take such regular (and freakishly quick!) trips to the bathroom, that one thing I can do about that is treat the need to urinate like a sort of exercise. The bladder – or urethra, or dick or whatever part of the body that stops pee coming out – it's a muscle like any other, so if you train it, it gets stronger, and you can hold a pee for longer. That's what he told me, and every now and then when I feel like I have some free emotional energy left in me, I'll hold onto a pee for what feels like an athletic amount of time, before rewarding myself with sweet release, and hoping that that's what he was talking about. I don't need to pee that badly right now, but I will, even though it goes against everything that great man taught me. Because I have standards to uphold in this blog, and because it feels good.
……
GBK EAST DULWICH YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND OUT!! Well aren't I just a little bit glad that I went in there! The shared male/female toilet was out of order, leaving only the disabled toilets free for use, and upon entering... a PUDDLE of liquefied toilet paper on the floor next to the toilet. The floor was once again not the gleaming tiles I've become used to in the last few days, but instead some thick homage to the scientific discovery of bacteria by Antonie van Leeuwenhoek in 1676, all rubbery and beige. No, not at all. Not one little bit thankyou very much. Toilets: 2
What a day it's been. The rain has stopped, and señor is currently whipping round with a dustpan and brush trying to pretend that the toilets in this establishment do not bring shame upon this family. But they do sir, and you cannot hide.
Thankyou.
