Charlie Chaplin, Elephant and Castle

It's a yes from me.

You know when you just walk in to a gaff and it stops you in your tracks?! Well The Chaplin does just that.

I'm sat typing this review from my desk at work, which overlooks The Rockingham Arms, another high end London watering hole. The underpass is currently cordoned off and there's a riot van, 4 police cars and an ambulance outside. They've just carried a man in to the back with what appears to be either a gun shot wound or he's been done over the head with a tin of beans, he's still clutching his Iceland shopping bag.

Anyway, i've been wanting to go in to The Chaplin for a year or so now. I would walk past it a few times a week and stare envious at the exterior but didn't dare go in. A bit like when as a kid i'd ogle the bristols of the most popular girl in my year but knew deep down I didn't stand a chance, i’ve got gromits you see. I felt the same gig with The Chaplin, it looked too trendy for me. I'm not a yuppie, I like to think I could be but i'm not. I drink Skol and Blue Nun, not Babycham and Remy Martin.

However last friday i'd been given the nod for an early finish at work, my boss Ricky had got the two bob bits and we had to clear out sharpish as he'd done himself a mischief. BONUS. A high flying mate of mine had put the feelers out for some early beers, he'd closed some big deals in the city and was in the mood to celebrate. I immediately turned the opportunity yes and was waiting for the details of where to meet.

" The Charlie Chaplin, bruv "

My heart missed a beat, I thought he was pulling my johnson. He knew the regard I held this place in, it was the holy grail. I text him back that he could kiss my 'arris and where were we really swigging and the exact same text came back but with increased re-iteration.

I couldn't handle it, I didn't know what to do. So I went for a potter about the shopping centre to clear my head and pick up a few bits. He then called me, he'd got the first round in and was on the veranda. I couldn't help myself, I legged it out the 99p store without paying for my frankfurters. Luckily the pace i'd set meant I couldn't change my mind as I approached the door of the pub and before I knew it I was right in the mixer.

As soon as I got in there, all of life's problems just shaked off. It was everything i'd fantasised about and more, the interior was out of this world. The attention to detail was mind blowing, the furniture art nouveau to the core, Del Boy would have a field day in here. My mate had since moved inside and was in the roped off VIP area with a few honeyz. I felt well out of place but dropped the shoulder and waddled over, i'd hit the big time. There were drinks everywhere, Asti champagne, Glen's vodka, some fancy looking gin fizz but sadly not any bailey's and cherryade.

Muchos drinks later, I excitedly said out loud that I was off to " drop the kids off " as I had one between my cheeks. I'd often wondered what the bogs were like, so off I went and it was magic in there. There was just a couple of tin metal boxes to widdle in to and then one pan that didn't have a door on. In I went, couldn't believe my luck.

As I was sat mucking out the barn, I was reading the hall of fame on the walls. My favourite being " Wanna come back to mine for pizza and sex?..... what's up don't you like pizza? "

I finished up, walked out in to the foyer and carried on walking back in to the bar. There was no sink, which was a good job as washing your hands is for wimps.

I took the time to have a poke about and see what else the boozer had to offer, there was a pool table that looked like it's cloth had been worn by mother teresa. A dining room that consisted of a few tables, no chairs and a buffet cart that had loads of different cobs and nothing else. I asked for a chicken kiev, quiche and salad cream cob but they'd just ran out. So I went back in to the bar and got leathered instead.

I've rated this pub 10 out 10, I might be a bit biased because of the reputation the place has got and jumping on the bandwagon and all that but I genuinely believe this place has it all. I even managed to get my jimmy waxed at the end of the night with some boiler from Penge who was in there on a hen doo.

If you're still reading this and you're not currently on the 172 bus direct to The Chaplin then you're a prat!

Choose life, choose The Chaplin.

3 May 2013 12:08