Because of the way things worked out, there’s some updates I never had time to put on here before heading off to the States, and chose not to do so when I was away in order to not break blog continuity! As a result, there’s going to be a bit of a muddy time where pictures and words don’t quite match up.
You may go ahead and scoff, but consistency is everything.
It’s really difficult to go back in time and write what you felt at a particular moment when things have marched tirelessly on, and especially when you might be in a completely different mental space than you were before. However, I shall try my best.
This was the night before I left for London (or thereabouts). It was Kirsty’s birthday – manager of the Cathouse – and so we descended on some Tiki themed bar. I was pretty stunned when we got inside, as the venue had various rooms with different styles… including a retro, lit-up dance floor! Tiger Tiger used to stand in its place though, which is not somewhere I was known to frequent.
I managed to avoid the calls to go onward to the Garage afterward, which is just as well. Kaylie, despite protests, was completely banjo’d when we made the 3 minute walk back to the flat, and if we’d carried on the evening, I can only imagine the carnage that would have ensued.
Going out with the Cathouse staff is always chaotic, and always a good time. Even within the politics of the bigger organisation that owns the club, there isn’t the same sense of loyalty as there is with the Catty. When you’ve been there for a while, you do get a strange sense of being part of the fabled ‘Cathouse family’, and as maddening as it is, it’s nights like these that really bring that home.