Jazz after dark

It was my mate Jenny's 30th birthday last night. She lives in Australia now, but flew in especially to get drunk and celebrate.
We went to Ruby Blue in Leicester Square.
I'm not a fan of Leicester Sq in the day, let alone in the night. It's so chavvy, I felt like we were in a 18-30s club in Ayia Napa.
Really loud, cheesy music...mixed with some classic Whitney Houston and old school dance rave tunes.
Anyway we got the Tequilla slammers in, and Jagerbombs, Gin n Tonics, Rum and cokes... etc.
And at 12.30am the birthday girl went home.
Which is what I should have done.

But me and my boyfriend Jimmy and two mates Alex and Tom decided to carry on drinking.
So we went to Jazz After Dark in Soho - famously known for being Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty's favourite Jazz bar.


  

Pictures on the wall of Amy Winehouse
















The manager gave us the VIP area, which was cool. Red walls, red sofas, red tables all roped off with, er, red velvet rope. We ordered a stack of Jack and cokes, and a huge platter of food. Awesome.

I finally rolled in about 3am, after me and Jimmy both fell asleep in the cab which was alwasy miles past our house.

Alex, Jimmy and me in Jazz After Dark - er, hammered.

Oh well, it's 5pm now and I'm still in my dressing gown, really hungover, and I've just ordered a takeaway Curry.
I don't think I'll bothered gettng out my Pj's today, or eat anything that's less than a 1000 calories.
In my hungover stupor, I even did the horrifying thing of looking through last night’s receipts. Painful.
I'm such a fool, for the disgusting about of cash I spunked on booze last night I could have gone on holiday.
It's so expensive to go out in central London.