For the second time in my life (the first time was for a staff Christmas party. I did not enjoy it then either). The club was in an old church. The DJ booth was on the the 'altar'. Last night, God was a DJ. (LOL).
There was a giant chandelier in the middle of the room, which went up and down sometimes. It was so fancy. I needed to pee, so I went to the bathroom queue, where I was surrounded by pneumatic blondes covered in genuine diamantes, and emaciated 12 year old girls sharing cubicles. The all spoke Russian to each other, and jumped the queue. I did pee eventually, then I had to elbow my way through the six foot cougars to get to the one sink (and mirror) to wash my hands. When I got back to my friends I noticed that the emaciated 12 year olds were dancing on the bar. It was cool.
There were many men wearing pale blue shirts tucked into beige trousers (according to Julian the banker, who took us there, it is the club that the bankers go to). There were also many men in crisp white shirts and distressed jeans with 'casually draped' cotton scarves. There were also many cougars. The white tips of their French manicures glowed in the black light as they danced to Maroon 5, and some very clever 'mash ups' which featured gems such as Katy Perry's 'Fireworks', Joan Jett's 'I Love Rock n' Roll' (I'm so sorry Joan) and Gunners' 'Sweet Child o' Mine'. It was so pretty.
