Abacus

In life, things with a bad reputation are sometimes alluring. That bloke who you know is going to give you the run around and do the dirty on you, that slightly slutty looking girl who you just know forgot to put her knickers on, that piece of oozy brie creeping gradually off the plate after dinner when you’re already horribly full and…Abacus.

Never has somewhere so eternally and steadfastly awful been quite so appealing.

I’m not sure if it’s the seedy dingyness of the dance floor, the sickly sweet cocktails, the many eager investment bankers standing in small groups playing it cool when they might as well lay their cards on the table and let their tongues hang out at the procession of scantily clad, early twenty something’s strutting past like they were debuting the Parisian catwalks.

I guess it’s something of a spectator sport, and one where you know you’re always going to come out feeling so much better about yourself.

Last night I was in the Hoxton Bar and Kitchen waiting to see Zoot Woman and two men, clearly lost, wearing double breasted suits and shiny Jeffrey Wests came sauntering over to me at the bar. The uglier one asked me if I knew where Abacus was. I replied (far too quickly) ‘Cornhill, exit 5 or 7, Bank tube’ and then felt very embarrassed and slightly violated by this exposure. They looked at one another and asked if it was the kind of place they might like, and I said ‘Yes, very much so, it’s full of suits and totty and investment bankers’ to which they glanced smugly at each other and the less ugly one said ‘well, being investment bankers we’d fit right it’. And then it hit me, this is why I love going there…all the clichés and ‘labels’ are so 100% accurate all of the time.

The last time I went I was unfortunate enough to be chatted up by some dreadfully dull posh man who worked for an American tobacco company. He soon realised that I was far from the usual girl he might chat to in this venue. I think it was when I scoffed at a couple of his lines which insinuated how very well off he was, and then he said something about a hele-pad I laughed out loud. Enough is enough!

Tonight we’ll be gathering plenty of funny stories and shocking encounters…I for one, can’t wait.