The overwhelming urge to call every single person in my phone book and get them to come down to Smash Disco at the Carling Academy last Thursday night was frustratingly countered by the fact that my phone has been barred by my dear friends; the over-zealous debt collectors at Orange.
Could they not just wait one day longer for their precious currency? Obviously they couldn't. I wanted to call everyone; not because I was lonely - but because the music was fantastic. I heard familiar yet funky songs with murderously danceable basslines (for example; The Rapture - House of Jealous Lovers).
Then the DJ played song after song of new music that I would love to know better - but for the sake of my iPod's tiny memory I stayed put and listened in blissful ignorance. Or maybe I stayed because I was mesmerised by the cartoon being projected on to the wall opposite my seat. It was continuous episodes of Transformers - featuring full on, psychotic flashing lights of the variety that appeared back in 1997 on anime series Pokémon, sending half of the schoolchildren in Tokyo into fits and seizures.
A friend and I took great pleasure in voicing over the characters in loud and particularly scary robot voices, and lightheartedly suggested that perhaps Smash Disco should carry an epilepsy warning!
Another reason I think everyone should know about Smash Disco is the price of drinks. A couple of pubs that I've been to recently are pushing nearly £4 for a pint of beer, and elsewhere, unless you have a student card, its unlikely you'll pay less than £2.50.
So it was more than refreshing and a little bit exciting to see that here you can buy a pint for £1.50 or a double Jack Daniels and Coke for £2.50. Bargain.
I thought maybe the promoters should hire Mr Barry Scott (of the Cillit Bang advert fame) to walk up and down Cowley Road with a megaphone, herding people towards the Academy by the force of his soundwaves alone.
Or if they can't afford him (I hear the fame has gone to his head - his fees are now through the roof) they should at least make more of a feature of the prices in their advertising, because it's a definite selling point.
Later in the night I made my way into the room next door which wasn't being used, and seeing my mate on his way back from the gents and thinking no one was watching, I ducked my head and extended my arms and ran at him like a plane trying to engage in a mid-air dogfight.
I made some rather loud aeroplane noises too, but he was having none of it because he knew that two members of staff were watching. I noticed too late - I hung my head in shame and blushed the colour of a freshly-boiled lobster.
Needless to say I avoided eye contact with my spectators for the rest of the night. Yes that's right, I'm 22 years old!
If you're looking for an intimate environment, great music and cheap drinks then this could just be the Thursday post-pub activity for you.
Alternatively - ask nicely enough and I'm sure the bar staff will turn on the subtitles so you can sit there on your own, getting hammered and watching Transformers.
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