By Nick Lang
They say that the main thing that is great about living in the capital of this great country is the nightlife. I seem to be missing something, and I truly wish to be enlightened. I have been going out in London for at least 8 years now (having lived here all my life), and yet every evening brings with it the same features. Whether you are going for a few drinks at a nice bar, going on a filthy pub-crawl or for a big night on the town, some or all of the following events will almost certainly occur:
There will be a delay on public transport to the place; you will have to stand in a long queue of people who all look the same and you may realise at some point that you aren’t even sure what you are queuing for; you will spend more time waiting to get served than you will drinking; some prick will spill your pint and not apologise; no one will wash their hands in the toilet; you’ll be asked to give some guy money for handing you the soap that is very much within reach; at least 3 people will condescend to you about your occupation; many trendy idiots will say the word “yah” as an expression of agreement; no staff will speak English when you desperately need to order food; a bus driver will not stop for you; you will realise that you don’t have the exact change for one of mayor Ken’s joyous little bus ticket machines; a group of rudeboys will make you feel uncomfortable (or up for a fight) for at least 80% of your bus ride home; and you will eventually get home to realise that the kebab that you thought had saved your life will revisit you angrily as an unstoppable flow of beer and questionable meat from your poor confused face.
Oh, and don’t forget the horrible sinking feeling you get when you naively look in your wallet the next morning, expecting to find anything but shrapnel.
“But I took out £50!!!” Yes my friend, yes you did.