A Night Out at Fabric


For Verena’s birthday she put a crew together to go out to Fabric – the “Best ever club in the world” according to DJmag.com. So here’s how the night went.

First we travel on the tube for a while (pretty much any story about London begins there) and we had to a pub a few blocks from Fabric. I use the word “blocks” very loosely here since the concept of the block does not really exist in london since none of the streets are straight or evenly spaced.

At the pub we are all sitting around the table and this woman comes up and the following ensues:

Them: Where are you lot off to tonight?
Us: Fabric
Them: Oh, right, you need anything? Pills, smoke?
Us: No, we’re good
Them: You’re sorted then? Right, have a good time.

The same things takes place pretty much every time I stepped out for a smoke becasue you know, if you are smoking then clearly you love drugs.

So after a bit we walk over to Fabric and there is this massive queue – I mean like more than 100 people standing in a line that spans more than 4 blocks (see note about blocks above) but Verena’s friend Jamie had the foresight to purchase tickets that allows us to “jump the queue” as the saying goes over here.

Fabric itself was a pretty typical club – 3 rooms, different types of music in each room with the young and hip filling its space. Really, not that different from, say, the Lounge in Minneapolis with the main difference being that there are a bunch of different nationalities at Fabric, instead of like… 3 in Minneapolis.

We stay there until 3 or 3:30 or something like that and then call a cab and head out. On the way out you have to climb some stairs and the stairs are filled with people who are either tired and trying to sleep until the tube starts running again or they simply had too much alcohol/drugs in their system. Either way, it looks like a scene out of a B rate movie where a virus comes and makes everyone catatonic. When we finally get outside we see that there is still a massive queue to gt in – and it 3:30 in the morning. Crazy.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s