Nor is it queuing for half the night to finally get in to a sticky bathroom, surrounded by the sight of girls vomiting, crying, comparing breasts and layering yet more bronzer on. It is also somewhat inevitable that at least one of these girls will try to befriend you and attempt to come in the cubicle with you. Is this really what we have come to expect of our nightlife? Is this considered fun? If so, this is not the blogpost for you and you should probably get back to tonights preparations of fake baking for tiger tiger.
For the few who remain, the ones disillusioned with life as we've come to know it, i offer an alternative. But no, this does not mean were all going to Blackpool to dance the night away with our charming chaperones. Rather the opposite, a night in your local gay club will not disappoint, imagine an evening were none of those beautifully groomed gents are going to grab your arse on the walk across the dance floor, and they talk to you just because they want to and can give you a run for your money when booty shaking to Beyonce
If your experience is anything similar to a night at the joiners arms on hackney road, this night could become a regular occurrence, the late opening license (no trying to escape before some creepy guy tries to follow you out), the cheap drinks the opportunity to spot christopher kane in the smoking area are all more than enough reasons to camp it up, just asked fianna...
