Sanctuary House (St James's)

Emory Leeson (Crazy People)

I've gone a bit round the twist, so it seems. Not in the way that Dave Lee Travis and Mike Reed went bonkers in the 80s, with their quack, quack oops and hilarious comedy characters like Mike Twang.

No, I'm really up the spout.

See, I worked in advertising, but the heavy workload really started to get on top of me. My employers sent me off to see a shrink after I complained of writers' block. Oh, and to top it all, the missus dumped me.

I suppose my behaviour was a little erratic, and some of my strap lines had become – well - a touch literal. I did one about Jaguars appealing to men who like the old five-knuckle shuffle from women they don't know very well. Seemed reasonable to me.

Truth in advertising, that's what I coined my approach. Mad as a hatter, the head-shrinker retorted. 'You need to go and spend some time in a quieter place,' he said, 'you need to chill out in a sanatorium.'

I took his advice. But I didn't wait for the men in white coats to arrive; no, sirree; thought I'd save them the bother. I knew this place near St James's Park tube station. It's called The Sanctuary House, which I reckoned was just as good as a full blown take-it-easy nut house. 

I started to drink in there on my own like. But then I met a gorgeous bird called Kathy; she'd gone a bit haywire too. Terrified of everything, she was – except me. I had the strangest feeling that she was either a mermaid or maybe a quasi-robotic assassin. (Boy, I'm nuts!)

Anyway, Kathy was fascinated with my career (isn't everyone who meets an advertising executive?) and hung around with me for weeks. To pass the time of day, we started making up slogans about our favourite pubs, based on my truth in advertising principle. We called it Truth in Reviewing.

Kathy was quite good at it. Not as good as me of course; I'm a professional copywriter.

One day we were standing outside having a roll-up, playing this game when someone overheard our conversation and presented us with the opportunity of a lifetime.

Kathy had just come up with a really good 'un for the Rising Sun in Blackfriars, promoting its key attributes as it were: I have to admit it was a belter: The Rising Sun - It's a bit s*** really.

Well as she said it, a bloke walking past stopped dead. He said he worked for a pub review web site that used to be quite good, but that he'd become disillusioned with the quality of reviews.

'No one seems to write decent stuff since we clamped down on banter,' he complained. 'What we need is a dose of reality, just like that. Send me five reviews, no more than a witty strapline, and I'll give you a packet of Drum and some Rizzlers. It may just save the site!

We couldn't believe our luck and set to work straight away. Three weeks of hard toil later and we're ready to pitch our ideas. You seem like understanding people, so before the northern monkey arrives, I'll give you a sneak preview into some of our work. Truth in Reviewing. Don't forget:

The Wenlock, Hoxton – Quirky  - like vomit without the carrots
The Lamb and Flag, St Christopher's Place -  Marginally better than a full anal probe in Customs
The Grenadier, Belgravia – Public school, but without the naked-a**e bike-racks
Hole in the Wall, Waterloo – Stick your c**k through; someone might suck it!
Market Porter, Borough Market – If this is the best pub in Britain, I'm a total c**t!

Do you think he'll BITE?

Oh, well, anyway, this place, the Sanctuary House. I almost forgot. What's it like? Erm, instantly forgettable. S**t, I'll have to work on that one. It's rubbish.

Emory Lesson's rating for the Sanctuary House – 5  / 10

Sputnikski
 

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