I love private rooms. I absolutely adore being even slightly secluded. If my lack of melanin or indeed talent didn’t preclude me from being a Diddy-esque rap mogul, I’d say chillin’ in private rooms would be the aspect of my hip-hop superstardom I'd enjoy the most. Yes, even more than snorting blow off the arses of strippers in high-budget clips. Even more than that.
When that retarded but well-muscled 50 Cent guy says you can find him in the club with a bottle full of bub, you can be sure that he’ll be knocking back that champers in some sort of awesome secret VIP area. Then he’ll probably get shot or some shit, because I hear he loves bullets entering his face like most people love candy (which is quite a bit). Yes, private rooms are so hot right now.
This love of private rooms is the predominant reason I love the Paddo Inn. It’s a lovely pub with awesome lighting and retardedly comfortable seating, but it’s the two little rooms that are found in the back of the bar that really do it for me. Each room has sweetarse tables and couches. Both have a theme too apparently – one is a ‘gentlemen’s den’ and the other is a ‘bordello red cushion room.’ If the website hadn’t told me of these themes I never would have noticed them, but that’s because I’m usually having too good a time in them to pay attention to anything. When I’m in one, lounging with mates, I get the feeling that our conversation is somehow better because we’re in a private room – like we’re somehow having a better time than the hoi polloi. Of course, this is all bullshit because usually we’re talking about ponies or modern art or Peter fucking Garrett, but at least the feeling is there, right?
My advice? Come down to the quite awesome Paddo Inn this weekend. Sojourn to a mini room and go nuts relaxation-style. Even if the rooms are taken, the Paddo will still serve you very well. Guaranteed.
(Originally published in The Brag as part of the Under The Bar column).
No comments:
Post a Comment