Rain, rain go away…and please never come back

I can’t pretend to be an expert on Rain.

If it hadn’t been a GCSE/A-level results night tradition to try and bluff your way into Rain then the odds are I probably never would have gone. I can barely distinguish between the times I was there- the memories all morph into one big mess of queuing for an hour in the cold, bouncers who were about as pleasant as the flu and a smoking area closer to resembling a Korean prison camp than a beach.

Rain. The very height of decadence.

Probably the best thing about the club was the ease with which you could get in, provided of course, you were

a) a girl

b) quite obviously drunk enough to pay for their ridiculously over-priced drinks

c) willing to endure the unending queue before getting inside and realising that the entire club is basically another long line to get to the smoking area/toilets

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Celebrating a sweet 16 in the smoking area, standard.

The dance floors are both so small that nobody could actually dance, instead everyone was stuffed in together, shitty remixes of Nicki Minaj pounding in your head. Trying to get to the bar was a challenge of Olympic standards and and if you managed to make it out of the smoking area without cigarette burns it was some sort of miracle.

This photo has to be from years ago, I refuse to believe people still willingly wait to enter this place.

However there was one thing which  Rain was perhaps more famous for than its legendary crowding. In its heyday it was a common sight to behold their PR staff on the streets of Belfast, shoving flyers into your face and their elite body warmers marking them out as so obviously above the rest of us. Sadly, competition from the likes of El Divino and its Koosday tartlets has meant that, much like its finances, interest in Rain has been draining away since about 2012.

Spelling is a good as their administration. Would also appear we have all missed the Farewell party. Damn

As I’m by no means an expert on what Rain is like these days (honestly I thought it has closed already) I turned to Tripadvisor to read others’ experiences. “Stevie G” who aptly used the title “It’s worth going just to laugh at it” said of Rain ” It is a converted warehouse and I think it would have looked better piled high with boxes.” whilst another mentioned  “There’s no way anyone would consciously make the decision to come to Rain”. Another review is concisely titled “Dump”.

My experiences of the place aren’t great but I’m sure there are some desperate people out there who will miss Rain. It is with heavy hearts and  tears “raining” down their faces as they kiss goodbye to their favorite body-crushing club…until next month when it returns under new management, probably.