Ministry Call Up

I was taken to the Ministry of Sound on Saturday night/Sunday morning on the pretext of free entry and meeting a sizeable bunch of banker types, lawyer types, one surfer dude and an Ecuadorean, brought together by an ex-ex-colleague who's currently twisting words on a National Green platform.

In the end there were 4 of us - the greenie, one finance type, the Ecuadorean and me. No, the Ecuadorean isn't here as part of the IMF. And we had to pay for entry :(

First impressions, MOS is a mess. And the bouncers didn't even frisk me. (-1). The ticketing area was a confusion with the logo-stamper really enthusiastic about leaving a mark on my right wrist, even before I had paid up (-1). We took the left entrance and ended up in the R&B room - Smoove. It was like a prison - with chain link fences and thousands of sweaty, young people who were more wobbling than dancing. Major crush and no sign of any control should any untoward misunderstanding take place (-1). We squeezed through and made into the next room, the main area where King Unique was playing. It was alright, not great, no great vibe or throb or feeling. To make things worse, the decor was weird and unbecoming of a massive entity like Ministry. Sorry man, (-1).

We went up to Pure, an isolation for the over-25s only. Ahem. It was decked out all white, an Ipod to dance in, a rehash of Bed Supperclub in Bangkok with lie-down and spill-drinks-all-over-the-cushions areas. Nice (+1). We boogied to relative good chill-house. Oh did I mention that there were ladies of the night present, plying their booty trade on bored angmohs?

So we danced, drank, switched rooms and did all that over again till about 4am. Verdict? I am a Zouker. That is the standard to go by and compete with. MOS fails me, (-3) so far.