I went to Warehouse Project (WHP) a couple of weeks ago with Kayt and Laura. The last place I raved with either of them was Paris - in March with Kayt for her birthday, and I can't even remember the last time I was on a ravey night out with Laura. Maybe the time we went to Showcase with Olivia and got crushed on the way to the loos. (What a horrible horrible club.)
Everyone always assumes I've been to WHP because I'm from Manchester - it's a bit embarrassing that I've never been. Kind of like if someone lived in Paris for three years and never went to the Louvre... Ahem.
(Well, not exactly like that. I imagine you don't get Manchester students with their bum cheeks out doing poppers in front of the Mona Lisa.)
For the second time - ANYWAY.
I think WHP would have been a very different event in its heyday. Although, as it's always been put on from September to New Year's Eve, perhaps it's always been full of students? Not that there is anything wrong with students. But even when I was at uni I didn't like going to nights targeted at uni students.
The weird thing is that WHP insist everyone gets in the entry queue by 10.30pm latest, so you can't show up after all the idiots have had enough and taken themselves home.
It was absolutely packed when we got inside. People were constantly moving through the crowd in long snakes of hand-holding friends, and they were not polite when they needed to get past. Girls (in a uniform of denim hotpants and bumbags) were elbowing, kicking and shoulder-barging us to get past. At one point I thought a man was trying to climb on my back and I started bending towards the floor. Turns out a very tall man was just wading through the crowd and I was just a fat blade of grass he thought he could squash under his massive feet.
We kept walking between the two rooms, trying to find a spot to dance in, but it seemed as though everywhere was just getting busier and busier. Then, whilst queueing up for the portaloos, we witnessed a nasty fight between a boyfriend and girlfriend. They were arguing heatedly and then they just went for each other. Bouncers pulled them apart and chased after the girl, who ran away into the crowd.
It was not a very relaxing atmosphere.
It was so bad that Kayt decided to go home after about an hour, because she wasn't feeling it. Me and Laura decided the only option was to stay and lose our minds.
Later on the crowd thinned out and it was hard to believe we were in the same venue. We had so much room to dance. The music was brilliant - Hannah Wants was headlining but I hadn't heard of ANY of the other DJs - I am so out of touch. In Paris I used to discover new music all the time, and now I mostly listen to Tina Turner and that song that goes EVERY FREAKIN DAY, EVERY FREAKIN NIIIIIGHT.
Anyway. (Can I say that a third time?)
I loved the music. By the end of the night, there was only a small number of people left and we were all dancing like people who should have gone home two hours ago. One man loved the music so much he marched over to us and said to Laura "I'm trying to enjoy the music and all I can hear is YOUR VOICE", because we were chatting as we were dancing.
He was clearly lying, as I could barely hear Laura above the music. Either that or he had just tuned in to her Glasgow accent and was MADLY JEALOUS.
When it ended at about 6am, we didn't want to go home so we asked the promotors where would still be open. They told us to go to a club called VOID on Canal Street. It took us a while to find it, and when we got there they turned some people away, saying it was 'regulars only'.
After walking down a long stairway, down into the VOID, we saw why they didn't want to let too many non-regulars in. There was a man running round in nothing but a willy pouch. Everyone needs a place where they can run around in a willy pouch without fear of judgement from non-regulars.
He even came into the outside smoking area for a bit. Laura asked him if we could buy a cigarette and he said "Where would I keep it darling?"
We said we wouldn't smoke, but at 7am in the morning we decided we needed to and tried to buy cigarettes of people (note: we wanted to buy not steal). Someone made us a rollie and because I am such a super cool badass smoker I accidentally INHALED the filter and had to thump my chest to make it shoot out again into my hand.
We made friends with a big group of lesbians and hung around with them for a bit, until they ditched us when we went to get a drink. We thought they'd left the club, but then we saw them standing in a different part of the dance floor. They were not our friends at all. Our only other friend was a strange man who kept pinching my bum and trying to drink our pints, so we decided it was time to call it a night.
And that was that!
The light is so dim in this room, my eyes are killing me. I might go and make some lentils for my tea. It is literally lentils for breakfast lunch and tea until I get paid next week.
Happy lentils everybody!!