pub review

Digress (Oxford Circus)

Patrick Bateman (American Psycho)

I get up every morning at seven, do a few of Crunchies, and then a few crunches, and then make a start on my daily men’s grooming routine. I don’t take any bottles into the shower (they are already there), but I do take one cup of tea.

*Please give me one more night, give me one more night.*

I always wash and go.

I brush my teeth with whatever toothpaste my mum has brought, and I always use an aftershave with lots of alcohol (because it drys your face and and makes you look older). I’m a test subject for an experimental spray-tan at the moment; “Rolo-Glow”, so after I have exfoliated, I give myself a good dusting of that (full body) - Included in the list of  possible side-effects are, extreme anxiety and explosive diarrhoea. But hey, a tan's a tan!

Then I adjourn to my bedroom and start my dressing routine. *One more night cos I can't wait forever.*

I’ve three suits, one Burton’s, one from Next and the other from Ciro Citterio. I wear them on a strict rotation. The flashiest - Ciro’s, is for Thursdays – the big night out in the city. I also have Thursday pants. My Calvin Klein’s. I’m wearing those today.

Once I’m fully attired, its time for the hair.

“Englishmen really care about their hair”, and Essex men care about their hair, more than most Englishmen.

So, I’m there for a good half hour, of a morning, working the fin. Getting things absolutely right, so that I look like an absolute abomination, by the time I leave the house!

I’m ready. Now there’s just the small matter of eight hours at work to get through before we hit the town.

I work at a bank in the square mile. The bank is a big one and it deals with lots and lots of money. The environment is a real pressure cooker for some. Not for me, I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing, so I spend the day, e-mailing the secretaries on the floor and analyzing what the other guys are wearing. *Give me just one more night, oh just one more night.*

I’ve been doing some mad doodles since I started on the tanning spray.

The guy on the desk opposite, goes to the same hairdresser as me, but my haircut is slightly better, (I hope! I think!) due to the fact that  I always make a point of going to Brett rather than Sancho (Brett is the top stylist in Shenfield and its environs).

Anyway, the end of the day comes and we’re off to Digress. There’s been a little change of plan though. Always keen to show that money is no object, we decide to cab-it to the branch in Soho (as opposed to The City). We’re all over it.

In keeping with the affluent image, I immediately put my card behind the bar (but make sure to tell no one my tab number – I’ve only £50 quid in my current account).

Once someone has furnished me with a bottle (it's all bottles, cocktails and champers in here), we hit the dance floor. There’s plenty of talent here, as always, lovely young ladies, cruising the room, checking the labels on the guys' suit jackets. I’m totally prepared for this, having ironed a moody Armani one into mine, but I’m somewhat distracted tonight by some rumblings down below.

It’s certainly glitzy in here, but the crowd is making me unusually edgy. I feel like I am waiting to go into a job interview and I’m worried about my Calvins.

So I head to the bogs (to the sound of Timberlake), get in the cubicle and experience the relief. I slip on my i-pod and put on some Phil Collins. Aaaaaaah! *Oh one more night cos I can't wait forever.*

I must have been in there longer than I thought, cos the next thing I know the toilet attendant is banging on the door wanting me out. So I pull myself together,  tip him a fiver and head back out for a boogie.

Well, I dunno what to tell ya really, the evening went on very much like that: Dance-flirt-panic-khasi, dance-flirt-panic-khasi.

By the end of the night, I’ve done thirty quid in the toilets alone, so when I bump into Louis (Marcus? Paul? Whatever!) back at the bar, and he indicates to me that it is my turn in the chair, I tell him to give me one moment.

He turns away for a second, and when he turns back.

I am simply not there.

Patrick Bateman's rating for Digress - 2 / 10

Rolosocosy

Comment Posted on 07 Jan 2008 by Wash ' n ' Go

Take toilet roll and wet wipes into the toilet?! Erm,.. Why take one bottle of fabric conditioner and one bottle,..erm box of detergent into the erm,..laundry (if you've got one) when you can,.ahem,.....

Comment Posted on 09 Jan 2008 by Dusty Bin

One word for this gaff.

Yep, you've guessed it,..."Overated!"

Hahahaha! Only joking. Yeah, it's rubbish.

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picture of Digress (Oxford Circus) 10 Beak Street  London,

10 Beak Street

London,

W1F 9RA