Warning! The Cuckoo Club is members only! I wasn't aware and it took a while for the penny to drop...
Silly, Sarah! I was under the impression that all humans eat, drink and, you know, defecate and that really puts us all on a level playing field, equally deserving of being treated with dignity, respect and politeness. I'm so glad that people like the snotty witch on the door of The Cuckoo Club let me know that that is not the case. What's really important is how you look, what you're wearing, who you're wearing (apparently Dorothy Perkins isn't a designer on her radar) and, most crucially, how much money you have.
I had gone to this place at the ungodly hour of 23:00 on a school night (when I would normally be heading off to bed) to see a friend of mine perform in her band. As such, I was on the guest list...or so I thought. Upon arrival, there was a gaggle of lovely looking ladies and gents in their fineries (the invitation said 'strictly sophisticated' and it was absolutely adhered to) standing around looking a bit bewildered and the door staff; beautiful, blank and indifferent. The clip-boarded lady avoided eye contact with anyone and would never have looked my way had I not made a point of grabbing her attention by actually standing so close to her that she could not avoid looking at me. I was told I was not on the guest list and then the stunning wench (she pulled off the wet-look leggings and killer heels look with aplomb, I'll give her that) turned ever so slowly to someone else. This was a woman who did not rush for anyone. At least, not anyone without a title. There were no apologies, no explanations, barely any conversation at all with the people huddled around cigarettes trying to keep warm, hoping they made the cut. She even said to her colleague, audible to those even at the back of the queue 'Only let the IMPORTANT ones in.' That told us.
I struck up conversations with other people similarly turned away. A young man was a close friend of the lead singer but wasn't on the guest list. A lady who actually worked for the band as their online promoter wasn't on the guest list. As we mumbled, grumbled and considered heading home, I managed to get through to my friend who came out to get me (FYI, the mobile phone reception inside is terrible) and the door whore with less charm than a cobra on a come-down grudgingly let me in. (N.B. I have no idea of the looseness or otherwise of the lady's morals, I use the word 'whore' because it rhymes quite nicely with 'door' and because, if I looked like that, I may well turn it to my advantage and snag my own Pretty Woman-esque fairytale ending...)
Inside, I had to once again flail my arms about to get the attention of the cloakroom staff who, it seems, simply can't see people who aren't model good-looking or filthy rich and then I headed to the bar. I was served more quickly than expected but I was given white wine instead of red (I didn't have the strength to kick up a fuss by this point) and received a paltry pound in change from a twenty for two drinks. Wowzers. No more drinks for me.
The venue itself was nice enough (quite small upstairs), interestingly done out but I couldn't see what warranted the extortionate prices or the attitude of the door staff. I know that exclusivity is what some people really value in a night out, and while it's a plus not to have chavs wondering about vomiting into bins and starting fights with each other, coke on the cisterns and a tenner per drink is really not my scene. I've since read reviews about the place which criticise people like me who moan about the snotty door staff, exorbitant prices and having to 'look right' to get in and I bloody well stand by what I've said. None of those things gives the impression of a business which has any interest in its customers beyond the superficial which, to me, makes it less classy than your average boozer where you are at least served with a smile, some chat and - if you're luck - complimentary peanuts ('Why, you look simply ravishing this evening!' har-de-har).
What was good was the band. T Mandrake were bloody brilliant, check them out. read more