weekend whitewash

Sometimes, even the best laid plans get, well, laid. Deja vu. What seemed like a promising weekend petered out into boredom, disappointment and loneliness. It was a downhill slalom from Friday night onwards, and only came to a grinding halt sometime last night.

Quattro's launch was one big disappointing can of sardine. Literally. It seemed like the organisers went out of their way to ensure guests were thrown every possible inconvenience conceivable. From having to line up to enter, to having to line up for drinks, this was without the doubt the worst launch I had ever attended. The lines outside the club were akin to the IC department, with queues broken up according to names in alphabetical order. Question: why ask people to pre-register or RSVP when half the names do not appear on the guest list on the day of the function? I was literally rubbing shoulders with the patrons, that's how fucking packed it was.

Getting in was mildly annoying, getting a drink was downright pissing off. It took 25 bloody minutes just to get one drink, having had to stand in queue for the entire duration. If that weren't enough, some microgenius in the bar decided to split the drinks line into beer and whiskey. I was about five people away from the bar when suddenly one of the bartenders smugly announced they had run out of drinks, and those still thirsty could try the other line across the bar. Several minutes later, it was the official end of the free flow. I was so bloody tipsy, on one bloody beer!

Even then, the organisers didn't let up. Obviously being rude was one of the requirements to join the cleaning service in Quattro, and that's exactly how the waiters and janitors were. Barging into people, shoving patrons aside, pushing through the masses - they were at their element. Not a single excuse me, or sorry to be heard.

Okay, but there must have been something nice right, you ask optimistically. Well, the radio 4 DJ's were fabulous, that's it. Sorry folks, no silver lining. Bad air circulation, too much sound interference in the Summer/ Spring sections, a long flight of stairs to Winter, and concealed restrooms. To be fair, though, give it another three months, and then it will probably be quite a decent joint. At this moment, too many posers adorning the furniture there, eager to be seen and maybe heard there.

Which brings me to a sub-post - posers. My word, they're so stereotypical. Typically, a group of both genders. Must-have accessories include black dresses, a multitude of bottles and loud voices. The boys (somehow 'men' does not fit) try to act cool; the girls go for 'cooler'. There's a distinct paradigm shift as the hours pass by and the bottles lose their contents. Voices become louder, and actions more uncivilised. Then the puking starts, and whatever class they think they have just goes down the toilet bowl. That's if you're lucky; more often than not it's sprayed across the floor or sofas. Which is why, sometimes the clothes (and bottles) do not make the man. Money is fleeting, class eternal.

Yeah, so that was Friday. Thanks to a series of unfortunate events, I was home alone on Saturday night. Even the prospect of watching Everton play could not keep me hooked to the tube. Which led to a solitary beer at Savanh Too. Sad, but true. Quite a decent crowd, though, and the music was quite the happening. However the prospect of drinking and driving alone didn't appeal to me, though, and I was back home within an hour.

Like I said, a real tear-jerker.