We went clubbing with cougars, and it was more fun than Lounge

Clubbing on the Triangle is an ordeal. You’re either being rucked by a braying crowd of drunk dentists in Lounge, dealing with bouncers and broken dreams at Bunker, or suffering the Travelodge-foyer-masquerading-as-nightclub that is Mbargo. Lola Lo? Pass the sick bucket.

Instead, head to Luna. Especially if your idea of a cracking night out involves loafers, single 40-somethings and the musical stylings of Chic.

What secrets do you contain?

Granted, I was sceptical at first. Prior research told me that this time last year a man had his eye socket shattered for bumping into an olive-skinned, ponytailed man at the bar.

Not wanting David Seaman’s psychotic brother to kick my head in, I brought along a couple of friends with a penchant for the older lady to act as muscle.

Saturday night at Luna, as I’m sure you know, is “Chicken Legs Disco”. The music is mostly hits from the 80s and 90s, when pop was marginally less shite.

Luckily, I don’t have any problem getting my freak on to Yazoo and consider Soft Cell a viable alternative to McBusted, so this was all gravy.

Lovin’ it.

Having dressed up smart-casually and drained some Dutch courage, we were still feeling a bit agitated going in.

I was picturing a dingy cellar with scattered groups of decrepit spinsters leering over their vodka cranberries at the awkward-looking students encroaching on their lair. Also, the bouncers were big and scary-looking.

We needn’t have worried. At around 10, things had yet to kick off – the worst we got was a suspicious look from the barman as we shuffled off to a discreet corner.

Drinks were expensive – a double gin and tonic for £8.50. Still, we couldn’t risk killing the classy vibe with a plebby pint of beer. You can’t mess around in Clifton.

No drunk idiots or psychotic ponytail owners in sight

I had a chat in the smoking area with a single mother of two. The dad had done a runner. I wasn’t sure if she said this suggestively.

Still, she was pretty foxy for someone who worked at the DVLA. As a full-time mum she needed welfare to get by.

I could see how important a place like Luna would be to someone like her – somewhere to get away from the stress of it all and let loose. For her and others in her boat, this nightclub clearly fits the bill.

The place by now was bustling. Lots of suits, lots of cocktail dresses, a scattering of chinos and more than a few pairs of stiletto heels.

Everyone was really friendly. Most were clearly looking to score. We on the other hand were there strictly for research purposes. Slaying a cougar would obviously be an added plus, but we left it to the experts prowling round the brightly lit d-floor.

I say experts – most looked like recent divorcees with the general smoothness of an unpicked scab. What they lacked in anything resembling game however was made up for with sheer dogged determination to not leave the place alone and spend another night crying into the kitchen sink.

The great thing about Luna is that the worst you can expect from a botched attempt at scoring would be polite indifference.

Drunken attempts at snogging someone in Pam Pam can lead to any number of adverse results e.g. flat out refusal, mocking laughter, drink to the face, slap to the face etc.

By contrast, it’s a testament to the laid-back nature of Luna that being a tit won’t end in routine humiliation. I was starting to wonder where that foxy lady from earlier had got to.

As the night wore on, it felt like a teachers’ Christmas party that had got out of hand. Shirt sleeves were being rolled up and unbuttoned chests were emerging. DJ Mikey Bush was shredding the decks.

Play it again Mikey

Despite being at least a decade younger than everyone there, we still couldn’t match the others in shape-carving.The sheer enthusiasm from these party veterans couldn’t be matched.

A short, sweaty man was straddling the stripper pole with alarming expertise (even requesting my friend spin him round repeatedly while he clung on like a sloth). Everyone seemed to be having fun.

At this point, the night ended early for one of our number who’d been hitting the sauce a little too hard. He left without telling us and woke up the next day to find he’d vommed in his desk drawer and then thrown it out the window. As you do.

You’re never too old for a stripper pole

When the rest of us eventually left, we felt enlightened. Luna had exceeded our expectations. The music was funkalicious. The ladies and gents were going for it. The venue was actually good. I mean, I doubt it’ll become a weekly fixture in my diary but it was definitely a welcome novelty.

Without a doubt, I enjoyed Luna more than I would Lizard Lounge or any other Triangle club. If you ever find yourself there, you could do a lot worse.