"And the award for "Place most likely to be shut down by Trading Standards for false advertising" goes to *combined deep breath and drumroll* ...HEAVEN!"
Not since Little John has a name less suited. There are so very many reasons why I shouldn't go to the open-late gay bar that is Heaven; it's the absolute opposite end of town from where I normally drink, I'd like to think I have better things to do at that time of the morning and I'm not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, in fact, somewhere in cyberspace there may be a number of photos of me having a dubiously good time in Pink! contrariwise to my last claim.
There is, however, one overwhelming reason why I've been: my alarmingly unbalanced sense of judgement. Well, that, and 6 O'CLOCK! Yes, it's open 'til 6 o'clock. This suitably fills the hours between my normal drinking holes kicking out and my going home to cry myself to sleep in the waiting bed.
The drinks are not especially cheap or varied and the music, as far as I can tell, is the one same thudding dance track, repeated ad infinitum as if Pete Tong has gifted his discovery of perpetual motion to record decks. The staff are friendly enough, less so if you spill drink all over them but that's understandable.
It's almost so wrong it's right, but knowing where you are, what you're doing and what time it is gnawingly ache the brain like the emergings of a neoplasm. Stepping out into the eye-raping sunlight and having birdsong chorus your journey on the first bus home push you into fully-blown tumour territory.
Oh, and there's no draught. Bummer. read more