54 minutes ago · 5 min read1004 words · Life · hide · 0 comments

Last week a friend and I were given some tickets to see Think of England at The Greenwich Picture House. The movie is about an incentive, said to have been OK'd by Winston Churchill, using sex as a survival carrot to bolster our boys fighting abroad, giving them the notion that when they get back to Blighty their wives will give them a special welcome home. Inside the picture house we struggled to work out where we were supposed to be going – should we head upstairs? Five screens yet no directionals. No information board showing what film was on where. Other people were also experiencing the same problem and we kept passing each other in the foyer and on the stairs to work out where our films were. There was a lack of staff. Just one girl behind a counter serving drinks etc. I spotted another young female member of staff and asked where Think of England was showing. She said downstairs. Really? I asked why there was no board showing that and she said there was. Hmm. No there wasn't.…

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