An Irish bar…in Chinatown

30 Jan

After spending the day freezing at the Tower, a night out was in order. Sam and I went out with a gaggle of girls to a bar called O’Neill’s near Picadilly Circus. As we walked there I noticed all the restaurants were Chinese or Vietnamese and soon I saw paper lanterns lining the streets. We journeyed to Chinatown. In London. To go to an Irish bar. It was a little too funny to me.

A few things about O’Neill’s:

  • If you are a young, pretty girl, you will be gawked at by men of all ages. This will make you feel uncomfortable, but having a good support system of other ladies to shield you from creepers comes in handy. Besides, you can laugh about the 35-year-old guy from New Zealand, wearing a t-shirt with a bejeweled skull (I kid you not) on it coming on to you. (Sam managed to convince this man that she was engaged. Her “ring” was on the wrong hand. Guess they don’t know it’s the left hand in NZ)
  • They play some pretty terrible music (Ice Ice Baby, Lady Marmalade, 90s dance) and they replay songs within the hour. In the course of two hours we heard “Dynamite” three times. Not okay.
  • Drunken biddies will drops their drinks. This makes a mess.
  • Drunken bros will shake their beer bottles, thus creating a rain shower of Heineken. I read in some girly magazine that rinsing your hair with beer makes it shiny. I don’t want to test this theory. Plus, beer has quite a distinct smell that I wouldn’t want on my hair.
  • Sometimes you meet nerdy boys from Poland who speak next to no English. And their dance moves will not fail to impress and provide you with entertainment for the evening.
  • Sometimes you meet boys from Australia who are charming and equally amused by the general disorder of the place.
  • And sometimes you realize that despite the bad music, creepy old men, shower of beer, and puddles of drinks, just getting out and dancing and laughing is a great way to end the day.

After leaving O’Neill’s we took a night bus back to campus. And by that I mean we waited an hour in the freezing cold until a bus came, thus making our commute home a total of an hour and forty minutes. Was it worth it? Well, I got a blog post out of it and have some stories to tell.


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