I must have done something really bad in a past life (or maybe in this life) as tonight I have to go to On Anon. As is always the case with having to go to dire places, it’s a work do. I have been there once before, on a family do. The bouncer almost refused me entry on the grounds that I was wearing trainers, but I managed to convince him they were in fact mules (bouncers know very little about ladies’ footwear, it would appear).

I lived to regret my powers of persuasion once inside. It is truly horrid. And its horridness is magnified by its size, all 8 ‘bar areas’ of it. I am amazed they even manage to fill one bar area but London fools and their money are soon parted. The only good thing I can think of to say about the place is that the toilets have minimum-wage attendants with lollies, perfume etc. which is nice when you are throwing up.

I am currently compiling a range of polite reasons why I have to leave early. Suggestions gratefully received.

Pumpkin Publog