Late Night in Muswell Hill

The bar we are in is invaded by all the people being chucked out of other pubs that shut at normal closing time. The joint is heaving.

Two smartly dressed larger ladies with smoothed straight hair dance in the corner in eye shot of the gold-toothed bouncer. Obviously they have come here to ogle him. They have a 'cute' little dance that they keep doing where they bounce ample bosoms together.

A young man in a gold nike tick teeshirt (with his hard nipples showing quite remarkably for such a hot venue) is running around the bar chatting up women.

Its pouring with rain outside and the bouncers have a fascist anti-hat rule that is vigourously applied.

A man and a woman standing leaning up against the bar just behind where we are sitting are deep in conversation. He's saying, "..how do you want me to be? I can be anyway you want me to...missionary position...I can pull it out...Its all about compatibility. I've been too open now..." We wondered whether they had actually had sex yet or NOT (we thought eventually). Later he continued, "You're beautiful. You won't regret it..." So tonight he'll be lucky but I think he has built himself up and has a lot to live up to.

In the toilet HS overhears the girl in the short denim ra-ra skirt and pink high-heeled timberland boots (a very barbie look, it has to be said), " I paid £1,900 for this boob job and that included the consultation. My uncle's a plastic surgeon".

The large ladies leave promptly at 1.00am in a kind of huff of not being noticed.

Nike tick teeshirt and nipples has finally found a girl who will snog him. They prepare to leave, but first she has to have some discussion with the friend she came with.

And at our time of departure the man who was talking the woman into bed was just glad of our seat.