Pubs & Bars: Middle Bar (383 Bourke St. Darlinghurst).

You know those 'whacky' guys who have gross tans and expensive haircuts and white teeth and won't wear anything unless it's bought at General Pants Co.? You know how pretty much everything they say seems to be an unecessary reaffirmation of their own supposed aesthetic or monetary brilliance? They know they're reasonably attractive in a generic way, and they want everyone else to know about it. Middle Bar is the bar version of one of those guys.

Middle Bar is the guy who walks into the party decked the fuck out in everything totally du jour, loudly declaring himself the coolest fucker in the place. And while it's hard to argue with the fact that his threads are pretty sweet, it shits you that he's trying so hard. Yep, Middle Bar is that guy. Sure, it's got the admittedly very cool balcony overlooking Taylor Square, and the aesthetic of the place isn't bad. But it also sports one of the worst door policies in the history of the universe - a door policy based on ludicrously abitrary decisions made by doormen who obviously think their role in society is intensely important.

Like the aforementioned fuckhead wearing an Industrie catalogue, Middle Bar's door policy continually tries to reaffirm a feeling of coolness/exclusivity in a place that would be so much better if everyone would just sit back and chill the fuck out.

Middle Bar openly denies its members entry, and yet they let in crazy women who rim random people's ears while purporting to be Chopper Reed and claiming to live 'over the moon.' Middle Bar is a mad house: shot glasses thrown around, patterns mismatched, people vying desperately for seats on the balcony. The sort-of-occasionally-cool clientele varies, from gay cabaret dancers to recently divorced mums to horny hipsters. Like, the place isn't bad - even if it is a little schizophrenic - the real issue lies with the terrible doormen. Once they lose the ‘tude, this place could be the Hot Joint it obviously thinks it is. As it is now? Fuck off.

(Written with Alex Vitlin & James McKenzie. Originally published in The Brag as part of the Hot Joints column).