Rawrz. Why I hate classy places. Rawrz.

Last night, me and my friends went to Tiger Tiger for a friend of a friend’s birthday. The friend managed to weasle his way onto the guest list while me and my friends had to stand in the long-ass queue for 90 min, subjecting outselves to the scornful looks of slutty blondes in mini-skirts. Yes, we were a tad underdressed, but we don’t all have ‘ATM’ tattooed on our foreheads. >_>

Long-ass Line

Long-ass Line

Anyhow, 90 min. later, we finally got to the front, where the big black bouncer stamped our wrists with invisible ink™.

My friend (Note, I am parrot-phrasing here): ‘Err, I don’t think you stamped it properly, nothing showed up.’

Big Black Bouncer (in his monotone voice): ‘It’s UV’

My friend: ‘Oh.’

So, we went inside, and I have to admit, the place was exponentially better than the clubs we normally frequent. But, because it was student night, the dance floor was so packed with drunken teens (and a couple of old men), it was impossible to move, let alone groove.

So we waited until happy hour when drinks are half price, and made our way to the bar and decided to order cocktails.

My friend: ‘Hey can we have please.’

The barman (in his monotone voice with a touch of disdain): ‘This is the shooters bar. Cocktails are that way —>’



My friend: ‘Oh.’

By that time, my feet were really starting to hurt. High-heels may look pretty, but they’re definitely not designed for wear-and-tear. So we left at around 2-ish, and I don’t think I’ll be going there again any time soon.

Moral of the story? Go to Gandalfs for a R20 entrance and all you can drink night

PS. The music was pretty sucky as well.



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