Last weekend a friend’s band (the excellent Soul Purpose) were playing at the Gaiety and invited me to come along. I hadn’t been before and didn’t realise that after midnight this lovely theatre turns into Club Twaterama. The band were excellent and the place is nice but it is mostly filled with poserish men and loud women wearing shoes (or carrying shoes) that not only make the wearer walk like a hunchback with rickets but are also dangerous to anyone wearing a soft-toed sensible shoe anywhere in the vicinity. Purpley red stiletto bruises on my dainty size 5’s are not a souvenir I want to take home from any night out, or indeed any rush-hour train ride with ambitiously dressed business women.

I didn’t bother even taking photos as the toilet was packed with squawking ladies who -er- may have had a bit to drink and were having difficulty controlling their damned un-ladylike selves – and their damned dangerous shoes for that matter. The toilets were fine, and I’d like to go see some ballet in the Gaiety and review them properly at a calmer time, as the late night clientele had left them in quite a state.

Also, in vengeance for the fact that my boyfriend bought what he claims was one of the worst pints of Guinness he has ever had that night, for fecking outrageous 6euro50!! I admit that I stole an industrial size roll of toilet paper from that resistible restroom.. tee hee! at least if he gets the runs after that awful pint of Guinness, the Gaiety will pay for the clean-up!

I am the victor!

I am the victor!