Half the music choice and half the customer base: if you want a mature down to earth atmosphere then steer clear as half of its customers range from to 18 24 and you never know what the next track on the playlist will hold. The toilet attendants who bug you for your small change after them giving you a tissue to dry your hands who chant their made up songs like «you touch it, you wash it» are both a big issue and a huge annoyance. Downfalls: - The inescapable pink that I have mentioned before is everywhere apart the bathrooms and the smoking area but to also add to the situation I must mention that any photos you take around the venue will consist of a pink backround ensuring that the bar has left it’s DNA for you to be constantly reminded. The bar staff do look as if they are enjoying the musical moment whilst they lipsync and dance around the bar whilst conjuring up your drinks and shots. The bouncers are friendly and thorough but swift when they are searching you as well as remembering who you are and are always striking up a quick convo or a joke as well as the bar staff always enjoying the moment and I don’t think I remember a time that they’ve forgotten my large orders or gave me different drinks. 70 all day and night and the same applies on Friday’s between the hours of 6pm and 8pm but for £ 2 a drink. Biggest Win (s): - Sunday to Thursday has a selection of 8 cheap drinks ranging from ciders to beers to mixers to shots only costing you £ 1. The big G-A-Y logo outside the front and the pink setting visible outside as well it being inescapable inside is bound to plant a memory in your mind… especially if you’ve ventured inside. One of the most well known gay bars in town, but, for what reasons one may ask… If you’ve ever been to Soho or just had a wander down Old Compton Street then you’d be no stranger to know of or spot this bar. Then we left and found a drinking establishment for Men. *rolling eyes* We made it to the space near the front and I gave him my wine. They fussed and fussed and fussed over him, kissed him on the cheek, and apologized relentlessly … as they should have. I tapped him and said «Let’s go!» … but to be fair, and honest, and give these kids a little credit, they descended upon him and cleaned him up as best they could, with paper towels and napkins.
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After a few moments we decided to try and find a (relatively) calmer spot to stand, so we snaked our way through the crowd when Drunk Boy suddenly decided to pick up Drunk Girl and swirl her around because OMG! TAYLOR SWIFT! And they landed on my husband, splashing a full glass of red wine all over his shirt and jacket.
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This is apparently where all the Baby Gays go to get sloppy drunk, shriek at the top of their lungs, and spontaneously break into dance wherever they happen to be whenever Kylie, Madonna, or that GaGa woman appears on the multitude of TV monitors. We found a spot near the bar and tried to enjoy our wine while being jostled and nudged by completely oblivious kids. We were at least two decades older than anyone there (I’m 50), and I felt terribly out of place.
We made our way through the storm of twinks and their BFF girlfriends to the bar, got a couple of glasses of red wine, then my husband led me further into the swirling mass.
I did –not– want to go here, I could tell from peeking inside that this is –not– our kind of crowd … but The Husband insisted we step in for a drink.