"Got any urinal cakes?" When a cafe review goes wrong.

Attendant coffee shop, Fitzrovia.

"Got any urinal cakes? "I grinned from ear to ear as I offered this killer opening line.

The cardigan-clad server behind the counter said nothing in reply but gave me a steely-eyed stare.

 I tried again in case he hadn't heard me. "Have you got any urinal cakes?" I pointed around the cafe, once a Victorian man's toilet in the heart of Fitzrovia. "Cos this used to be a... with the urinals...and now it's a cafe, and you sell cakes and..."

He still said nothing, but he raised his eyebrows at me in quiet defiance.  The only audible noise was a slightly whiny off-station radio playing quietly under the counter. I waited for a tumbleweed to blow between us and a church bell to chime in the distance.  Finally, an old man sitting in the corner hunched over a cup of tea coughed, breaking the frosty silence.

 "I'm not the first person that's said that to you, am I?" I said finally, conceding.

 The server's face finally cracks into a smile: "Not really, no."

This means he had heard this and variations of many toilet puns about fifty times daily. I decided not to ask him which item I could "spend a penny on." 

My first attempt at visiting an eatery to do a review is not going well.

 The menu offers a number of breakfast and brunch classics, from bacon and eggs to avocado on toast to Nutella pancakes. There is also a big selection of teas, coffees, and smoothies. I opted for a ham and cheese croissant and a coffee before humbly retreating to my urinal booth.

£7.50 is not too bad for central London, I thought as I ate.

The menu contained some information, which reads as follows: The former Victorian toilet was built around 1890 and used for its primary purpose until the 1960s. After two years of planning and restoration, it reopened as the first of three Attendant cafes in 2013. The original Doulton & Co. porcelain urinals became the unusual setting for individual booths, with green seating to match the original Victorian floor tiles.

It's nice and relaxing once you've stopped holding your breath, expecting an Armitage shanks-type stench to hit your nose from your previous public toilet experience. It feels like a place out of time and certainly a unique experience. It makes a change from Pret's domination. I read somewhere that you're never more than 10 metres away from a Pret in London. Or is that rats?

As I finished my coffee, I asked the server where the toilets were, but he told me they didn't have any and to use the facilities in the pub opposite, back up the stairs. Given its former use, this seems like an oversight.

As I walked back up the stairs, I passed an American couple heading down. I told them to make sure they asked about the urinal cakes. The man laughed as he passed me and said he would. 

I smiled as I headed back out into the daylight, thinking I know someone who would not find that at all amusing.