El Diablo,Kings Arms,Manchester
The evening began as a balls-up. I arrived in town at 9pm, believing that some of my friends might want a few drinks before going to a club, but I was wrong.
So I spent just over an hour in Piccadilly Station, wandering the streets of Manchester or sat in shitty Burger King with a cup of tea, before meeting my brother and his girlfriend at 10.15pm. Unfortunately, Yohko had only been able to tell me she wanted to come out that evening and by then of course, there were no tickets left.
The Kings Arms is a traditional old Salford Pub on Bloom Street, just past the end of Bridge Street. These days, it is the centre of a thriving alternative cultural scene and in terms of the entertainment offered, is probably the weirdest venue in the Manchester area.
At 10.45 when we arrived,it was already crowded. I spotted a couple of mates in there- Dan and a mate of his, and Rachel Kearney and her friend, er, Rachel. We had a nice time chatting-Rachel told me she wants to go to Japan; her friend worked in Moscow for a year and she visited her there, both of them quite rightly loved the place.
The music was a mix of rock, rock n' roll and a bit of punk, with a dash of pop thrown in. Maybe it was a bit too much like party music for my taste,but the atmosphere was boisterous and cheerful. There were two major let downs however; the toilet facilities were woefully inadequate (the girls had only one cubicle and so had to use the mens) and the wait for drinks at the bar was often ridiculous.
While I was stood at the bar, I felt some beer splash on my face; one of the older women had, it appeared, thrown beer all over a young girl, but hadn't thrown a bottle, as the bar staff thought. She was thrown out.
I left at 1.45, with my brother and his girlfriend still dancing and almost fell asleep on the bus back home.
The evening began as a balls-up. I arrived in town at 9pm, believing that some of my friends might want a few drinks before going to a club, but I was wrong.
So I spent just over an hour in Piccadilly Station, wandering the streets of Manchester or sat in shitty Burger King with a cup of tea, before meeting my brother and his girlfriend at 10.15pm. Unfortunately, Yohko had only been able to tell me she wanted to come out that evening and by then of course, there were no tickets left.
The Kings Arms is a traditional old Salford Pub on Bloom Street, just past the end of Bridge Street. These days, it is the centre of a thriving alternative cultural scene and in terms of the entertainment offered, is probably the weirdest venue in the Manchester area.
At 10.45 when we arrived,it was already crowded. I spotted a couple of mates in there- Dan and a mate of his, and Rachel Kearney and her friend, er, Rachel. We had a nice time chatting-Rachel told me she wants to go to Japan; her friend worked in Moscow for a year and she visited her there, both of them quite rightly loved the place.
The music was a mix of rock, rock n' roll and a bit of punk, with a dash of pop thrown in. Maybe it was a bit too much like party music for my taste,but the atmosphere was boisterous and cheerful. There were two major let downs however; the toilet facilities were woefully inadequate (the girls had only one cubicle and so had to use the mens) and the wait for drinks at the bar was often ridiculous.
While I was stood at the bar, I felt some beer splash on my face; one of the older women had, it appeared, thrown beer all over a young girl, but hadn't thrown a bottle, as the bar staff thought. She was thrown out.
I left at 1.45, with my brother and his girlfriend still dancing and almost fell asleep on the bus back home.
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Still you didn't sit at home like me! Haha